Rise of the Steel Phoenix
by Firehawk242
Summary: Beneath the ice of Europa, I awaken as an Osiris-pattern Commander from Planetary Annihilation. So many questions, so few answers. Fortunately, I'm now a Brutally Efficient Self-Replicating Mechanism of War. Planetary Annihilation Multi Crossover Self Insert.
1. Chapter 0

**Author's Note: There is no Planetary Annihilation category on this site. Which is understandable I suppose, considering the utter lack of an actual plot in the game, but still a shame. Anyways, this is a Planetary Annihilation multi crossover self insert. Essentially, what would I do if I woke up as an intelligent war machine? Lots of stuff apparently.**

* * *

 **Chapter 0**

There was precisely one good thing about waking up as a quadrupedal twelve meter tall brutally efficient self-replicating mechanism of war. The flu I'd been struggling with on and off for the last month or so was gone. Beyond that, I was not best pleased by my new form.

The location might have had something to do with that though. It took me a good three minutes to stop thinking I was drowning, freezing, being crushed, or otherwise dying horribly as a result of the super-cooled water I was currently immersed in.

Right, take stock of the situation. I was, according to my memory banks, Commander Kappa-20963027-A-6b, an Osiris model commander. Having four legs was a new experience, one I was not terribly enamored of. I liked bipedal locomotion, thank you! Beyond that, I was underwater and half buried in silt. The water temperature was well bellow 273 Kelvin, and the liquid only remained so because of the pressure it was under and some rather impressive tidal fluctuations. Above me, a giant ice sheet stretched... well, not as far as I could see exactly, but as far as a human could... actually, bad example, optical visibility was pretty awful down here...

Anyways, analysis of the situation. Low gravity, more likely a moon than an actual planet. The tidal fluctuations supported that hypothesis, likely caused by a sizable gas giant, roughly Jupiter sized. Right, first things first, get out of the damn water. Fortunately the water was fairly shallow. I just needed to punch my way up through the ice.

Heh.

My right arm swiveled upwards, bringing my main gun to bear. Then I fired. Water flash-boiled around me, ice shattered, and a plume of steam blew kilometers into the air. Well, that worked better than I was expecting. The pressure relieved, the water around me rapidly froze. Fortunately I was able to pry myself loose and climb the crater I'd just made in the surface of this ball of ice.

I stood upon the surface of the moon, free. Things were looking up! Then I looked up. Well, that's not just a gas giant the size of Jupiter, that IS Jupiter. I was on Europa. How?

Not important. First order of business, getting off this snowball. I checked my memory banks and got back... mixed results.

Bot schematics? Zilch. The factory was there, but no actual bots.

Vehicle schematics? Same. Nothing useful.

Aircraft? Same story.

Naval? The lack of data was deafening.

Turrets? Okay, now we were getting somewhere. I had the basic anti-air turrets, the basic laser turrets, and the Umbrella. No artillery for some reason though. Oh, and I had radar. That was something at least.

Orbital? Holy shit, I had EVERYTHING. Orbital launcher? Check. Astraeus? Check. Avenger? Check. _Omega battleship?_ Hell yes.

Okay. I could get off this snow cone of a moon. I just needed resources. Which... well, yeah, I was once again shit out of luck. Fun fact about Europa, it's the smoothest object in the solar system. Because it's a ball of ice. So much for the old "a Commander builds a metal extracter". Right, no sense wasting time. I started building an orbital launcher.

Hmm. Europa. That meant I was in the solar system, or rather, the Sol-ar System. Yes, I went there. Something wasn't right. I was a giant robot from well after the age of humanity ended. Yeah, maybe just launching myself into space in an Astraeus wasn't the best idea. Instead, I queued up a Hermes. Information is power, and right now I was feeling pretty powerless.

The Hermes broke atmosphere in short order. Well, I now had a truly stunning view of Jupiter's great red spot. Not terribly useful, but definitely pretty. But not what I needed to know. I turned the Hermes towards the inner system.

Earth, here I come.

* * *

The first thing the Hermes noted once it passed Mars was that it was getting a signal from the planet. It took me a picosecond to identify it as the Curiosity rover. Huh.

The second thing it noted was that Earth was playing host to a space fleet. One that was very clearly not native. It only took me a moment to realize what I was looking at.

X-COM: Enemy Unknown. The Ethereal invasion fleet.

Well, that was a thing.

* * *

Right. Ethereal invasion. I really should do something about that. In theory, I could hit them with my orbital firepower. The issue with that was my complete and utter lack of anything even remotely resembling an economy. In theory I could build an orbital constructor and start working on some jigs over Jupiter or Saturn. The issue with _that_ was that there was a hostile fleet in the neighborhood with control of space. Progenitor stealth is good, but building giant metal structures in orbit is going to be pretty noticeable no matter what stealth you've got going for you.

Also, I wasn't even remotely sure about my ability to take down the Temple ship, should it show. Not without an economy I didn't have. Right, first order of business, get an economy. To do that, I needed to get to somewhere I could build said economy. So now I needed to select my future base.

What did I need? No, scratch that, what did I want? I wanted to be close enough to the action to influence it in realistic time frames. I wanted to build an economy. And I wanted to not be noticed by the aliens.

Underground Lunar Base it is!

I queued up an Astraeus and a couple Avengers, then sat back to wait. Well, I tried. I wasn't quite clear on how I was supposed to sit with my new body. I settled for just lowering my central section to rest on the ground. I vaguely recalled reading an SI like my current situation where the protagonist bemoaned his lack of fingers. At the time I had thought it a rather silly thing to complain about, but now that I was the one in the metal shell, well, I understood a little better. At least he still had bipedal locomotion!

Right, Astraeus and Avenger escorts built. I loaded myself up into the Astraeus, then set for an entirely ballistic course to Luna. Time to go ruin the Ethereals' day.

* * *

Ballistic courses are stealthy, especially with Progenitor stealth systems. Unless someone takes a very close look, they're not going to realize you're anything more than another bit of space debris.

They're also really, really, really boring.

In an attempt to pass the time, I tried to rectify my lack of anything but orbital units. And I have a complaint I'd like to file. You know all those PA SIs where the protagonist can just whip up a new design in a matter of seconds? Well _apparently_ my new brain didn't have that software. My best estimate for recreating the basic Ant tank? Upwards of a year of development time. I didn't have a year.

Fortunately it just seemed to be a lack of the basic principles, not a fundamentally slow system. Recreating the tank? I had to design everything from the gun to the AI core to the engine to the treads from scratch. Just frigging great. I literally had to reinvent the wheel to build a damn truck.

Right then. Add to the to-do list, acquire all the shiny technology I could. Actually, that was already on the list, it just got pushed up in my priorities. Getting all the shinies should be on everyone's list, really.

* * *

Landing on the moon was uneventful. Fortunately for me, the Ethereals weren't terribly interested in a few pieces of space debris. I set down on the far side of the moon, just north of the Gagarin crater. Then I started digging.

Commanders tend to avoid building underground structures, mostly because there's no point. With Progeniter tech, building down is always harder than building up, and if your enemy is close enough that visual observation is an issue, they're close enough that you're already trading weapons fire. However, against the Ethereals who had trouble tracking down satellites launched by 2015 humans, well, visual observation was the only way they were going to find my stuff. So going underground made sense.

And the fact that an Underground Lunar Base is an inherently awesome concept had nothing to do with my decision. No sir, the soul of practicality, that's me.

Anyways, digging down is pretty easy when you can just deconstruct the rock in front of you. In short order I had a number of metal extractors and reactors. I had an economy! Okay, not much of an economy, my lack of fabrication bots was making itself very much known, but an economy. Sweet, sweet metal. I immediately built an orbital launcher, with just the very top of the launch tower sticking out above the surface of the moon. I also started constructing a series of turrets, mostly umbrellas. I wasn't exactly worried about land or air units right now.

Now, technology. I needed it. But how to get it? I had a hunch that asking the Ethereals nicely was out. That left stealing it from them. Which I didn't have the tech to do yet. Right, I needed help. And I had a hunch I knew where I could get it.

* * *

"Incoming transmission!" one of the comm techs in the X-COM base announced.

"I'll let the Commander know," Central Officer Bradford said.

* * *

The Commander of X-COM was entirely too busy for this shit. She had a war to fight, one she was losing. UFOs flew unopposed over most of the planet, alien monsters rampaged through Earth's major cities, the council was barely giving her enough money to keep the lights on, and now _this_. A signal from an unidentified source, on a restricted channel, addressed directly to her.

"Right, put it through, let's get this over with," she said as she took her seat in the situation room. The screen lit up, a stylized insignia of a silver bird in flight gently pulsing in and out. What the hell.

* * *

So, this was X-COM's famous Commander. The Great Commandy One himself. Or rather, herself. Huh. Can't say I was expecting that one. Well, I suppose it balances out the gender ratio among the command staff, and X-COM's pretty egalitarian. Though for some unknowable reason, I've never had a single male sniper in any of my games who was even remotely competent. Anyways, the Commander.

She was, well, not terribly pretty exactly, but she had an aura of power and command that transcended physical appearances. Looking at her, I could very well believe that she was capable of leading Earth to victory over the Ethereals.

"Who are you, and what are you doing on a restricted radio channel?" she demanded, all business.

"Hello Commander," I said. "I am Commander Kappa, though you may call me Phoenix." Okay, fine, yes, I decided to name myself Phoenix. It was either that or spend the rest of my potentially immortal life going by a serial number. I've always liked phoenixes anyways. Not that I've ever met one, but you get the idea. "I am here to offer you a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"Right," she said. "Commander Kappa, Phoenix, whoever you are, I am fighting a war here. I do not have time for games. What do you want?"

"Well, in simplest terms, I want to help you provide the aliens invading Earth with a large number of structurally superfluous rectal orifices," I said. "I can offer war materials, primarily alloys equal to or better than those possessed by the invaders. In return, I would like access to your organization's data on the aliens and their technology."

"And you aren't going through the council because?" she asked.

"Because I don't feel like dealing with politics," I said. "I see you need some proof of my good will. As a gesture of good faith, I have sent an initial shipment of alloys and some other goodies. It should be landing approximately three kilometers south of your base in-" I checked my internal clock. "Three hundred and eighty six seconds. You are free to collect its contents and analyze them before committing to anything. I'll call back in two hours, unless you have any questions right now?"

She stared at, well, my chosen insignia, I suppose, since I wasn't sending her a video feed. "No questions. We'll be verifying your claim."

"I expected nothing less, Commander," I said, signing off.

* * *

"What are we looking at?" Bradford asked as the pod was hauled into the base on a flatbed truck. It was a cylinder a good four meters in diameter and twice that in length.

"It appears to be an atmospheric re-entry pod," Chief Engineer Raymond Shen said.

"So we're getting _help_ from aliens now?" Bradford asked.

"What's inside the pod?" the Commander asked.

"Primarily an unknown alloy, in the form of small ingots," the engineer said. "There were also a number of pieces of some sort of machine, which were clearly far more delicate than the alloy, as they were encased in a shock-absorbent gel."

"Any idea what they're for?" the Commander asked.

"I am uncertain, but if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say they most closely resemble a reactor," Shen said.

"Commander Kappa should be calling back shortly, Commander," Bradford said.

"Right, let's see if he's willing to tell us what he's sent us," the Commander said.

* * *

Just about that time. I punched up my new contact. Time for some negotiation.

"Hello again, Commander," I said as soon as the connection was made. "I assume you've recovered my gift."

"What did you send us?" she demanded. Wow, she really doesn't beat around the bush. Better than the opposite problem I suppose.

"Precisely four hundred tons of high grade alloy, which you may use as you see fit," I stated. "I am currently sending information on the material properties of the alloy and how to utilize it."

"I see it," the Commander said.

"Good, good," I said cheerfully. "Additionally, I took the liberty of including the components for an electrical power generator in my shipment. I'm sure you'll be able to find a use for it. Forwarding assembly instructions to you now."

"I see," the Commander said, steepling her fingers in front of her. Oh, how I envied her the ability to do that. I wanted my humanoid body, dammit! "You say that you can continue to supply us with this alloy, and other technological items, and in return you want data."

"That sums it up rather nicely," I said. "The more data you send me, the more fun toys I can send you. So, do we have a deal?"

"I cannot simply open our research database to you," she said. "I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," I said.

"We will send you some of our less classified information," she said. "More will depend on your continued contributions to the war effort."

"Fair enough," I said. "The pod you recovered contains one final item, a communication device for directly contacting me. You can use it to send me the data you've acquired."

"Understood," she said. Her stern face finally relaxed just a tiny bit. "I am grateful for your assistance, Commander Kappa, but trust is in short supply at the moment."

"Not a problem," I said. "After all, you're in charge of defending your entire planet. I wish you luck. Farewell, Commander."

* * *

The data took a few hours to arrive. 2015 Earth bandwidths, ugh. When it did, well, good stuff was in it. Some very good stuff indeed.

The first file was autopsy data on the Sectoid. I set that aside for later. While figuring out psionics was on the agenda, it wasn't terribly high on my list of priorities. The autopsy data on the Thin Men was even lower on the priority list. Literally the only thing I cared about from that was the chemical makeup of their poison. Which turned out to be acid, not just poison. Well, shit.

I wasn't in X-COM: Enemy Unknown. I was in the goddamn Long War mod. Well, all the more reason for me to pitch in.

The Floater autopsy was the first high priority file I received. Ethereal anti-grav is good. Really good. Better than Progenitor anti-grav in fact. I very much wanted it. However, the Floater took second priority to the fourth and final file I received.

The Drone breakdown. _Yessssss.  
_  
The Ethereals' drones were a rather impressive design, all things considered. Counter-grav propulsion with near perfect agility, an advanced repair function, and it still had room left over for a weapon, all in a ball less than a meter across. And now I had the schematics for the little sucker.

Capture complete, time to assimilate, refine, and transform it into part of my brutally efficient self-replicating mechanism of war.

* * *

I started by replacing the alloy with my own, superior alloy. Progenitor bullshit alloy, for the win! Elerium battery yanked out, replaced with a power tap connected to my network, keep the anti-grav as is for now, yank the repair function and the pea shooter it had for a gun, and I had _just_ enough space to squeeze in a nanobot sprayer. Hello, air fabricator.

Except not quite. I ran into a problem. I couldn't quite cram in the computer it would need to actually construct things independently, rather than supporting an actual fabricator. Right, time for an alternative solution. I saved the design as a Drone Worker. Creative, I know.

Then I started on an alternate version. Simply yank the nanobot sprayer, and suddenly I had all the space I needed for a computer and a number of dedicated short-range transmitters. I saved this new design as Drone Foreman.

I do good work, if I do say so myself. The Workers would do the construction under the guidance of the Foremen. Each Foreman could control up to six Workers, forming a Drone Fabricator Swarm, and thanks to their size, they were dirt cheap. Time to get to work.

I cleared out a cavern large enough for an air factory to comfortably rest in, then started construction. Yes, I was building an air factory underground. I am aware of the irony. The moment it finished construction, I started queuing up Drone Fabricator Swarms.

Von Neuman, here I come!

* * *

My base now expanding under the surface of the moon without my direct personal involvement, it was time to figure out my next move. Theoretically, I was now a matter of hours from being able to chase the Ethereals from the solar system with an endless horde of Avengers. Well, assuming they could tackle the Temple Ship which I wasn't entirely sure about. Worse, if I remembered correctly, destroying the Temple Ship without a powerful psionic on the inside to take control of the situation would result in Bad Things happening. Right, so that's out. I'd rather not accidentally the Earth.

If I'm going to blow up a planet, it's going to be deliberate, dammit.

Right then. Supporting X-COM it is then. What should I send them in... eh, call it a month. I can stagger my deliveries with the council's calls. Should relieve some of the pressure at the end of the month. Anyways, I needed to figure out what to put in my next gift basket.

Hmm...

I started with an Avenger. Installing life support in the thing was a pain, as was ripping out most of the computer core and replacing it with a cockpit. You don't even want to know how many warning popups asking me if I was sure I wanted to do this I had to get rid of. Apparently my design program had fucking Clippy active. I'd have to figure out how to turn that off later.

Then I started actually improving the thing. The original Avenger can only really handle atmosphere in terms of takeoff, and theoretically landing. It's not that it's physically incapable of doing so, it's just really bad at it. Most of that is the engine though. Fortunately, I now had some nifty anti-gravity technology! Reverse engineering it was a bit tricky, but nothing beyond my capabilities. In only a matter of hours I had a working anti-grav engine for my modified Avenger. Nice. I stripped out the gun of the Avenger, replacing it with a scaled down version of the laser from the basic point defense turret. There we go. One air-and-space fighter, ready for deployment. Now all it needed was a name.

I was an Osiris Class Commander. Fuck it, calling it the Horus. After all, his full name was Horus the Avenger. Right, Horus class air-space fighter.

My only regret was that I wouldn't get to see the look on the Ethereals' faces.

* * *

 **A/N: For the unaware, this is more of an archive than the actual story. The actual story is over on SpaceBattles, and is, as of my posting this, about halfway through chapter twenty nine. You can also find this story on TvTropes, should you want to look it over there.**

 **As this story is nearly complete, I intend to post these chapters on a regular schedule. One new chapter every Tuesday for you to enjoy. If you're feeling impatient, you can always visit SpaceBattles to read ahead. Otherwise, if you start crying out for more, I will mock you, and you will deserve every second of it.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Give a Commander a day and they'll turn a celestial body into an unassailable fortress of doom. Give a Commander a month, _well_...

I lowered my chassis to the ground as I contemplated my work. My tunnel network had spread across the entire moon. Umbrellas, Galatas, and laser turrets poked up through concealed firing ports in the moon's crust, ready to obliterate any would-be invaders. My economy was going great guns. Give it a few decades and I could completely strip the moon of any and all valuable metals. Orbital launchers dotted the moon, ready to construct and hurl an entire armada of Avengers, or perhaps Horuses, into space at a moment's notice. Deeper underground, air factories lay quiescent, having constructed the literal millions of drones responsible for my expansion. Even deeper though, oh, deeper lay the true pinnacles of my construction.

My unit banks were empty. This needed to be fixed. Current processing power was insufficient for rectifying this problem in a reasonable time frame. So I gave myself more processing power. I built processing nodes dedicated entirely to designing new units for me.

And by processing nodes, I mean solid cubes of computronium a thousand cubic kilometers in volume. Fuck being subtle about this, I am a brutally efficient self-replicating mechanism of war. Subtlety is for those without exponential growth rates. Or computers ten kilometers on a side.

Right now I had three of the things, with a fourth in the process of being built. Computronium Cube One I dedicated to rebuilding my artillery arsenal. More specifically, I wanted my unit cannon. The Astraeus was nice and all, but not fast enough for my purposes. Computronium Cube Two was dedicated to designing vehicles for me to actually put in said unit cannon. I opted for vehicles instead of bots on account of bipedal locomotion being hard. Bots would come later. Cube Three got handed a special task: Figuring out just how the flying frak psionics actually worked. So far the best it could give me was that it did _something_ fucky to the quantum foam level of reality, but what that something was and how it did it was well and truly beyond my understanding.

This is why I needed computers three times the size of the Borg Cube. Freaking psionics.

On Earth however, things had not been going quite as well. Ground engagements were generally going in XCOM's favor, but the UFOs were eating the interceptors alive. Right, time to make a call.

* * *

The Commander of XCOM was a very busy woman. The sudden arrival of aid from the mysterious Commander Kappa, Phoenix, whatever she called him, had given XCOM some breathing room, but the invaders were still pressing hard. So far, they'd done well on the ground, but the UFOs still reigned in the air. And now they had local opposition in the form of the terrorist group EXALT. She let out a sigh, pressing her hands to her face as she rested her elbows on her desk. Her office was one of the few places where she could show such weakness. XCOM's morale was fragile enough as it was. The last thing they needed was for their Commander to start showing signs of cracking under the stress.

"Commander," Bradford's voice came over the intercom. "Message for you in the situation room."

She keyed the intercom. "Council mission?" she asked.

"No," Bradford said. "Our mysterious friend is on the line."

Commander Kappa. Well, hopefully this would be good news. "I'll be there in five minutes."

* * *

Ho hum. Waiting for organics is boring. Oh well. Ah, there we go.

"Commander Kappa," she opened the negotiations.

"So formal," I said. "Is that any way to treat a guest, especially one bearing gifts?"

"I'd rather my planet not end up like Troy," she countered.

"Touché," I said. "Though I will say that I'm not Greek. Anyways, your shipment should be arriving in about five minutes. Same location as last time. Do be careful unfolding the contents."

"What did you send us this time?" she demanded.

"Fine, fine, you're no fun," I said. "You're only getting two hundred tons of alloy this month, but that's because I have some new toys for you." I threw a model of the Horus fighter up on her screen. Or rather, the Horus Mark II. This version had foldable wings, allowing it to be crammed into a reentry pod, because for the life of me I could not figure out a way to reliably fly what was basically a braindead not even worthy of the title of AI fighter from the moon to Earth. Of course _my_ version of the Horus could do it just fine, but mine wasn't built for a pilot.

"We're calling it the Horus Interceptor," I said. "It's a single seat interceptor capable of, well, actually, interplanetary travel if you really wanted to try it. It mounts a laser cannon in the nose, and flies with a gravity drive derived from the invaders' drones, so it can do VTOL. Heck, if you really want, you can fly the thing backwards. I don't _recommend_ it, but you _can_. I think four of the things should help you deal with those pesky UFOs that keep buzzing the planet. How does that grab ya?"

"Your contribution is appreciated," the Commander said. Damn, remind me to never play poker with her. She has a better poker face than I do, and my face can't even visibly emote!

"Good, so, I assume you have some data for me?"

"Indeed," she said. "Releasing data to you now."

"One question," I said. "I understand you've been fielding cybernetic powered battlesuits. I would very much like the schematics for them."

"That's not our deal," she said. "You provide support in exchange for information on the aliens. That's our technology, not theirs."

Geez lady, you bargain like a bear trap. "I'm aware of that," I said. "However, as I also stated, the more information you provide me, the more I can offer you. With the information I was able to acquire from the data you sent me on the drones and the floaters, I was able to construct the Horus. Imagine what I could offer you with more information at my disposal."

"What are you offering?" she asked.

"Too soon to tell," I said. "But, with luck, I may eventually be able to provide your troops with direct support in the field."

She frowned at my insignia. "Fine. We'll forward the schematics to you."

"Excellent," I said. "A pleasure doing business with you. See you again in a month then! Toodles!"

Right, new data. I once again found my lack of humanoid physiology annoying. Cracking non-existent knuckles just doesn't do much for me. Fingers. Definitely need fingers. And maybe toes. Actually no, that's stupid, I'd be constantly stubbing them on shit. But definitely fingers.

* * *

Oh sweet, sweet data, how I love thee. It's always a good day when I get new data to play with. Right, priorities.

Muton autopsy report. I filed that away for later perusal. Much later. Maybe if I was bored some time in the distant future and had nothing better to do. I honestly couldn't think of an actual use for the info at the moment. Eh, whatever, there's no such thing as useless data.

Seeker breakdown. There wasn't too much here that I didn't already have from the drone autopsy. The stealth system was honestly pretty meh, given how easily it was disrupted. Of more interest were the tentacles of all things. Articulated mechanical tentacles are hard to make, particularly with any real degree of flexibility and strength. The Seeker tendrils were a pretty good design on that front, definitely worth saving.

Next up, a few schematics for various classes of UFO. Scout, Fighter, Raider... Hmm. I'd have to look into that later.

And finally, the MEC data. Oh, the MEC data. I fed it into my newly completed fourth Data Cube. It spat out my first working bot design. Hell yes, we're officially in business.

Right. XCOM's R&D was freakishly fast for an organic organization, but for me, it was frustratingly slow. If I wanted to speed things up, I'd have to go to the source. Time to steal me an alien ship.

* * *

I started with the Ethereals' scout ship. Did the usual replacement of alloys, power sources, stealth, yada yada yada. I also replaced those weird open shielded sections the Ethereals were so fond of with walls. I was left with a giant hollow flying hockey puck. I added an airlock to the very center of the top of the ship, then started the real work. The first trick was adding a retractable scaled up version of the Seekers' tentacles to the edges of the ship. At full extension, the result was a sort of starfish-looking thing with a dozen alloy tentacles going out in every direction. Excellent. Then I added a stripped down bot factory to the inside of the ship.

I decided to name the resulting horror the Lamprey boarding vessel. And it was going to steal me a space ship.

Meanwhile I made some refinements to the rough bot design Data Cube Four gave me. It was heavily based on the MEC, obviously. But I could do better. To start with, I moved the main gun, a laser cannon, from a separate object and incorporated it into the bot's right arm. Much better. None of this reloading silliness. Also, if I don't get fingers, neither do you! Okay, no, that's stupid and petty. They can keep their fingers. Move the main processing core from the head to the much more heavily armored torso. Add secondary sensor suites to various locations. Mount a flamethrower on the left arm, and a pair of grenade launchers on the back.

The Mark 1 Crusader class bot was ready for production. Conveniently, the Lamprey's fabricator station was just powerful enough to build one of the things, at a rate of one every eight seconds. They would then be ejected through the airlock into the enemy ship. Well, through the airlock, then through the hole the plasma cutters I'd attached to the airlock would cut in the ship.

Now, I just needed to build the thing.

* * *

If there's one glaring weakness in Progenitor and by extension my design philosophy, it's overspecialization. In particular, very few of their air units can handle space and vice versa. The Ethereals didn't have that problem thanks to their mastery of counter grav. I was looking forward to using their tech to fix that annoying issue with my tech base.

This, however, left me with an issue. The normal air factory wasn't built to handle construction on the scale I needed. Even the advanced air factory was sorely strained, and this was just a modified scout ship. I was going to be building bigger things in the future. The orbital launcher was even less capable, and the orbital factory wasn't an option for strategic reasons. What I needed was a ground-based factory capable of producing starships. A starport.

I decided to go with a hanger style design, boring out a huge rectangular section in a convenient cliff side. Concealed doors would open up to allow my ships to come and go as needed. Deeper in, arrays of fabricators would be able to construct anything I got my hands on, up to and including ships the size of the Ethereals' battleship. Important that, because that was what I was going to steal first.

* * *

The Ethereals weren't exactly fussed about staying hidden when they were outside of the atmosphere. After all, nothing in the system could touch them. The first sign that something was wrong was a series of faint vibrations that echoed through the ship. The second sign was the multiple hull breach warnings. And the third sign was the sudden and total jamming of all communications.

* * *

An Osiris Commander can't grin, but I gave it my best shot anyways as my first six Lampreys clamped down on the Ethereal battleship and started cutting holes in the hull. The jammers I added to the design were doing their job too, completely concealing the ship's fate from the rest of the fleet. Excellent.

Dammit, I need either a mustache to twirl or cat to stroke, and in either case I need fingers. How else am I supposed to express my satisfaction with a masterfully executed cunning plan?

The Lampreys finished cutting through the hull, then started pumping out Crusaders. Eight seconds later, the aliens had six killbots in their ship. Sixteen seconds later, they had twelve. In about two and a half minutes I had over a hundred of the things, enough that I had three times as many killbots as the ship had crew. How they operated a kilometer long battleship with less than fifty guys, I have no idea. Pretty impressive. For organics.

The fight was swift, brutal, and horribly one-sided. If XCOM can take these things with eight squishy humans, a hundred plus killbots is hilarious overkill. Just the way I like it. And now I had access to the databases of one of the most powerful ships in the alien armada.

Yes, today was a very good day indeed.

* * *

The Ethereals had dispatched several ships to figure out why their battleship had suddenly gone off-line. No communications in or out, it just hung there, lifeless. They were getting some unusual sensor readings from the ship, but nothing they could resolve from any real distance. So they had to get closer.

As for me, I really didn't want to tip my hand yet. I'd already stolen their data, which meant the Lampreys had served their purpose, and were no longer simply disposable assets, but actual liabilities. The same could be said for the Crusaders. And the alien battleship itself, as its internal logs made it very clear what had happened. So, all three had to go. How fortuitous that I had a mechanism for doing just that, and giving the Ethereals a black eye in the process.

* * *

Explosions aren't nearly as effective in space as they are in an atmosphere. The lack of a proper medium for the shockwave to travel through, the difficulties involved in transferring the heat energy... It's just disappointing by comparison. However, when the explosion in question is both fusion cores of an Ethereal battleship going super-critical simultaneously, well, less effective is still pretty impressive.

Normally, a damaged fusion reactor actually won't explode. I know, fiction has taught you otherwise, but fiction is wrong. If the reactor is damaged, odds are that the reaction will simply fizzle out. Sure, you're looking at a lot of heat still in the system, but it's not actually going to explode. This is because fusion is a very tricky thing to achieve at low-mass low-energy states (low being a relative word here). My best fusion reactors, which were by no means my best generators, used the same cheat stars do, relying on quantum displacement to make up for the fact that they don't _actually_ have enough heat energy to trigger fusion. The Ethereals used gravitational compression to overcome the same issue. Now, under normal circumstances, a damaged Ethereal reactor will explode as the gravitational bottle fails, but not with a nuclear blast. Out of idle curiosity, I ran the numbers, and well, you're looking at a few sticks of dynamites, at most. It's kind of pathetic.

Under normal circumstances.

However, if some lunatic hooks up six new power sources to the system, removes all the safety interlocks, and then forces all the power from all eight generators into the gravitational compression system while simultaneously opening the hydrogen feeds as far as they'll go... Well, that's hardly normal circumstances, now is it?

* * *

Had anyone been there to see it, the explosion would have been briefly visible to the human eye from Neptune. For the UFOs that were investigating the disabled battleship, the blast was far more immediate. The first thing they experienced was a massive burst of hard radiation, scouring away sensors and fouling weapons and engines as particles sand blasted their hulls. The plasma bubble that followed melted even their advanced alloy hulls to slag, tearing the proud ships of the Ethereal fleet to scrap and obliterating all evidence of what had occurred.

Yeah, good luck figuring out what happened to your ship, you invading assholes.

Right, data, straight from the source.

To start with, I sorted the data into a few categories. The first was organic data, which was low priority information as far as I was concerned. The Ethereals' cloning and genetic tweaking tech was interesting, but not of immediate use. I set that aside for later.

The second category was their ship designs. Unfortunately, the Temple Ship's schematics weren't there. Well, that's annoying. Still, I had everything else. And I do mean EVERYTHING else. Even the Overseer was in my hands. Sweet.

Third category was mechanical info. There was some interesting stuff here. The data on the Mectoid and Sectopod went straight to Data Cube Four for refinement into working bot designs. The Cyberdisk data would be handed off to Data Cube Five for conversion into an air design when the cube finished construction. Should be pretty soon, that.

Weapon designs were briefly considered, then discarded. Plasma is, in all honesty, a terrible weapon. It occupies this unfortunate middle ground between proper kinetic weapons and proper energy weapons, with the drawbacks of both as a result. I was already working on designing a gravity-based shield that should stop most plasma based weapons dead. As for why the _Ethereals_ used plasma, there is a very narrow level of technological development where it actually is a viable weapon, and the Ethereals... well, they were actually above that level, but like most religious nutcases, they were pretty conservative, so they hadn't tried for anything new. I was not impressed.

That's not to say I don't use plasma. It has its role, but as the sole weapon in an arsenal? You'd be better off with a simple railgun. It's really hard to lolnope kinetic energy. But I digress.

There was more data on psionics, which I handed off to Data Cube Three. Hopefully it would be able to make something of it, and sooner rather than later.

Materials information. Their alloy wasn't bad, but not as good as my own. Elerium though, that was interesting. It was an artificially stabilized form of Moscovium, also known as element 115. Well, not exactly stable. More like meta-stable. The exact details are fiddly and would take a long time to explain, but suffice it to say it decayed into an isotope of Livermorium, element 116, that would then decay into a different isotope of Moscovium, which would then be bombarded by the particles released by the decay of its neighbors, turning it back into elerium. It was amusing, and certainly interesting, but not terribly useful for my purposes, save as a rather nasty fuel for my Crusaders' flamethrowers. Even robots have issues with fires burning at around four thousand Kelvin.

The final bit of useful information was some star charts, giving me information on, well, not the rest of the galaxy, but certainly the Orion minor arm of the Milky Way.

Which left me with one issue. The Ethereals' FTL. I wanted it. I did not have it. I was not happy about this.

The Ethereals seem to use some form of wormhole-based FTL. I very much wanted to know how it worked, so I could use it, but it seemed that the Temple Ship was the only ship so equipped. What that said about the requirements for their wormholes... Ugh. Fine. Deal with it later.

For now, I wanted more data. The battleship, for all of its data, lacked one thing that I very much wanted: The Hyperwave Relay. Part transmitter, part receiver, part sensor array, I wanted one.

And for that, I needed my unit cannon.

* * *

I am not a patient person by nature. Okay, that's... not entirely true. Sometimes I am impatient. I'm pretty sure I'm manic-depressive, more commonly known as bipolar, so I'm either totally apathetic or completely hyper. I was never diagnosed one way or the other, though, so who knows. Also, I was no longer running on organic hardware, so I had no idea if that still held true. Whatever the case may be, I was not terribly patient. Unfortunate, that, because Data Cube One did not have a working Unit Cannon for me just yet. So I had time to kill.

Well, seeing as the Commander's last data transfer had proven so useful, I figured I owed her a little something in return.

* * *

I discarded my half-hearted attempt at a gravity based shield. I was running into a number of issues with it that I couldn't solve. I'd have to wait for one of my cubes to have some free processing time. Instead, I set to work on an electromagnetic shield instead. Less versatile, and less effective against most things, but against plasma?

Fun fact, plasma really likes following magnetic field lines. One of the many reasons why it's awful. So an electromagnetic shield is very effective against the stuff.

It wouldn't be perfect, not for infantry operating in an atmosphere, as it did nothing to stop heat from conducting through the air around it, but I estimated I could achieve a solid eighty percent reduction in energy transference without too much difficulty. Might as well make a module for the Horus too while I'm at it. Fuck you and your monotonous plasma arsenal, Ethereals!

I started with a design for the MEC chassis, and by extension my Crusaders. Bolted on at the lower back, the field it created would capture and redirect incoming plasma into specially designed heat sinks. The thermal energy from those sinks would be converted into electrical energy, which could then be fed back into the MEC for any number of purposes. For the Crusader Mark II, the power would be fed directly into the main laser cannon. There's something inherently satisfying about using your enemy's own attack to fuck them up.

The infantry scale module was harder, and liable to burn itself out if it took too much fire in a short period of time, with... _unfortunate_ results for anyone nearby. I spent a good six hours trying to correct this flaw, before I realized that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Instead, I added a sensor which would warn the wearer that his shield was about to go up in a ball of flame. Hey presto, now you have a grenade. Have I mentioned I like fucking my enemies up with their own attacks?

By comparison, the starship shield generator was easy. The MEC design just needed to be scaled up. Simple, really. Eventually I'd have to upgrade to a proper gravity-based shield, as the electromagnetic one wasn't terribly effective against kinetic weaponry and was entirely useless against lasers, but for the Ethereals? Well, I gave the Horus Mark III decent odds against anything short of an actual battleship. My version, that is. The export version would struggle thanks to its less effective weaponry, but XCOM wasn't tackling battleships just yet.

* * *

Data Cubes Five and Six finished before Data Cube One gave me my unit cannon, so I tasked each of them. Data Cube Five was responsible for rebuilding my arsenal of aircraft. I gave it the Cyberdisk, Floater, Drone, and Heavy Floater data to play with and let it go nuts. I love not having to deal with things myself.

Data Cube Six however, I set to actually innovating. I had gravity manipulation now. I should be able to create an Alcubierre drive if nothing else. I wanted my FTL, dammit. Cube Six's job was to give me a working design. Hopefully it would happen soon.

And then, finally, _finally_ , Cube One gave me a working unit cannon design.

Oh. Fuck. The Hell. Yes.

* * *

"Commander, incoming message for you," Bradford's voice came over the intercom.

"Council?" she asked, keying a nearby panel.

"No, looks like our new friend called back early."

"I'll take it in the situation room," she said, turning towards the lift. Apparently her meeting with Shen would have to wait.

* * *

"Hello, Commander," I said. "I hope I didn't pull you away from anything to important."

"I was under the impression you weren't going to contact us for another week and a half," she replied.

"That was indeed the plan, but thanks to the information you've given me, well, we've managed to advance our timeline by a fair bit. I figured I should let you know."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"To give you something," I said. "You see, the aliens keep trying to put holes in your people, which makes it rather difficult for you to respond in kind. So I whipped up a little something for you. Sending operational information now."

Her eyes flicked back and forth as she took in the information I had scrolling across her screen. "Personal shield generators?" she asked.

"They're not quite as effective as I'd like, and they'll really only work against plasma weapons, but they should certainly help," I said. "There's a version for your MECs and the Horuses as well. The first pod should be arriving at the usual location shortly."

She nodded. "And what do you want in return?"

"Well, in terms of data, I would like the schematics for those little automated rover tanks you've been deploying, but more importantly, I have a joint operation I would like our organizations to undertake."

"Joint operation," she said.

"Yes, we've made good use of the data you sent us last time, so I'll be deploying some of our mechanized units in support of your troops. As for the operation itself, well, a few hours ago we deployed a surveillance satellite over South Africa. I understand they've withdrawn from your Council, correct?"

"Correct."

"Well, I think I may have found the root cause." I plastered my surveillance data across her screen. "I don't know about you, but that looks like a secret underground base to me. What do you say we knock on their door? Or maybe just knock their teeth in, I'm not terribly picky."

"I believe we have a deal, Commander Kappa," she said. I shuddered slightly. I've seen sharks that looked less predatory than that woman. Well, time to go fuck up an alien base.

* * *

"Alright boys and girls, today we give ET a swift sharp kick in the pants," Major Peter Van Doorn announced to the Skyranger. Nine of XCOM's finest soldiers looked back at him. "The Old Lady found us their main base of operations here on Earth, so we're gonna give 'em their walking papers. Vahlen and Shen gave us the key and the toys to go in and ruin their day, so let's kick some ass. The Commander said we're going to be working with another group on this, so we can expect support on the ground, though we don't know what kind yet. I know you kids don't need it, but it's just not fair if we have all the fun, now is it?"

"No sir," his second in command, Captain Amanda Drake said, shouldering her laser rifle. "And we know how much you hate to be unfair."

"Damn right!" Van Doorn said with a grin. "We've got some new tech, we've got some new friends, and we are going to tear those alien bastards one shiny new asshole. We drop in ten minutes, so gear up people!"

* * *

I could have just buried the base in Crusaders. That would be the Commander-y thing to do. However, taking out the base was really my secondary goal. Building connections with XCOM, that was what I was really after. Sure, I by no means needed their trust or cooperation, but darn it, I liked their pluck. It takes guts, doing what they do.

So instead, I took a cue from XCOM itself and designed a series of variants for the Crusader. The standard Mark II featured a laser cannon, twin grenade launchers, a flamethrower, and of course the newly designed anti-plasma shield. A bit of everything really, though it did lean towards explosive doom. Well, let's see what we can do about making specialized versions of the thing.

The first variant was the Bowman, swapping out the flamethrower for a second laser cannon and the grenade launchers for a smoke screen dispenser and ECM pack. Their job was to fight and win at mid-to-long range.

The second variant was the Viking, which traded the laser cannon for a second flamethrower, and the hands for sixty centimeter long spikes of progenitor alloy. The grenade launchers were replaced with a short ranged EMP generator. Their job was to close and brutally murder everything in their path.

The third variant was the Asclepius. It kept the laser cannon, but the flamethrower was replaced with an upsized version of the drone's repair mechanism. The grenade launchers were yanked in favor of one of XCOM's restorative mist dispensers. Everyone needs medics.

And finally, the Longbow variant, which traded in all other weaponry for a single, massive, shoulder mounted railgun. Because fuck you, fuck your cover, and fuck the six guys behind you. Also, I needed a sniper.

I decided to deploy a ten bot squad for the mission. Too many, and I'd have XCOM feeling all inferior, too few and they'd feel like I wasn't pulling my weight. With an equal number of representatives, bad feelings should be minimized. Two Vikings, two Bowmen, three standard Crusaders, two Asclepiuses, and a single Longbow. That should cover all my bases.

I also added a pair of Drone Fabricator Swarms to the unit cannon loadout. Might as well start doing some building down there, even if I had no intention of constructing a serious base on Earth.

* * *

The XCOM squad rushed out of the Skyranger, guns at the ready.

"Good, you're here," I stated through the designated squad "leader", one of the Asclepiuses, as my squad emerged from the South African night. "We can begin then."

Van Doorn looked over my squad. "Packing some serious firepower there, aren't you?"

"Says the man carrying a Light Machine Gun," I countered. "Besides, better too much firepower than too little."

"I like you already," Van Doorn said. "Let's go kick some alien ass."

* * *

"Cover behind me," one of my Vikings announced, moving between the rather aggressively hostile cyberdisk and the assault trooper who had rushed in to finish off the muton. The cyberdisk's heavy cannons blasted away, hammering at my bot's armor. Unlike the other alien troops, cyberdisks didn't use plasma weaponry. They, and the drones which were actually, well, there's not really a word for it, but I guess larva is a close as you can get, anyways, they're not actually machines, or at least they didn't used to be, up until the Ethereals got their hands on them, but silicon-based life. And they don't use plasma weapons. No, their guns are far more interesting. For drones, well, it's a small packet of electrons. Whee. There's a reason I call it a pea shooter. Cyberdisks, on the other hand, have twin particle cannons that spit a cohesive pulsed beam of electrons at a target. And those are distinctly _not_ pea shooters.

As a result, my new shield technology was only slightly effective against them.

"Firing primary weapon," my Longbow announced. There was a deep boom as the railgun projectile slammed into the cyberdisk, sending it spinning off like an evil frisbee. It wasn't gone just yet though.

Pew! "Target eliminated," the sniper from XCOM's squad stated as the 'disk hit the ground and exploded. I cannot get over the sound XCOM's lasers make. It's hilarious.

My Viking moved back, letting one of the Ascelpiuses repair its shattered plating as our combined squad advanced deeper into the base. "Gotta say, I like your style," Van Doorn said as he casually hosed a Floater with a burst from his machine gun. "We'd have had some real trouble with those bugs if your boys hadn't been here."

"I find fire does a good job of eliminating pests," I said through my squad "leader". "Chryssalids are just big pests."

"So all you need is a lot of fire," Van Doorn agreed. "That was a beautiful sight, watching those bugs go up in flames."

"I take it you've encountered them before."

"Terror op. Bad times." he shook his head. "Whatever alien freak thought up those things was a sick, sick bastard."

"No arguments here," I said. "How's the shield tech working for you guys?"

"Holding up pretty good so far," Van Doorn said, checking the cylinder strapped to his chest. "Nothing quite like the expression on that muton's face when it blasted Jefferys and he just ignored it. I hear it was you guys who came up with it?"

"Pretty much. Took some doing to get it small enough to be man portable, and we never did manage to fix that whole exploding kink, but for what it is, I'd say it works pretty damn well."

"You can say that again," Van Doorn said. "More coming up, let's keep this rolling people."

* * *

Well, the base assault was well in hand at this point. I directed the bulk of my attention to the two drone swarms I'd deployed. They hadn't landed in South Africa, but rather in the middle of the Sahara desert. Quite literally the middle of fucking nowhere. Then they started digging. By now they had a shaft about a mile deep, and a mid-sized cavern at the bottom. I set the first swarm to building a lift in the shaft, while the second got to work on a teleporter to match the one I had built up on the moon. I also constructed a hangar with an advanced air factory inside it, just beneath the surface of the desert.

I like underground bases, so sue me.

Now, I needed a way to retrieve my bots once the mission was over. Fortunately, I was able to take a fairly detailed scan of the skyranger as it was landing. Not as good as I'd have liked, but close enough for government work. I fed it into Cube Five and it spat out a working air transport for me in rather short order. I now had my own skyranger. Good for transporting about a dozen bots or small vehicles, though rapid deployment was an issue. Eh, I'd work on that later. For now, it would work for picking up my squad after the mission wrapped up.

Right, that's that problem solved. I turned my attention back to my own base.

It was time to build me a proper space fleet. Sure, I had literally thousands of Horus Mark III's already loaded into orbital launchers, but those weren't really proper ships. Fighters, sure, but not ships. Now, the question was, where to start?

* * *

I ended up ruling out a few of the designs on account of them being utterly terrible. The Abductor class ship for example is so terrible that just looking at the schematic for it makes me cringe. _It has its power sources outside of the main hull._ Yeah. What genius thought this was even remotely a good idea? Just getting a working design out of the thing would require rewiring the whole ship. Fuck it, not dealing with that shit. The other designs are... not much better, to be honest. The aliens seem to like sticking fragile and/or volatile things near the very edges of their ships. No wonder they can be shot down by fighters that by all rights they should hilariously outclass. There's also an appalling lack of proper blast doors, compartmentalization, really anything you'd see on a well designed wet navy ship, much less a space ship.

You know what? Fuck all of it. Data Cube Seven was coming online now. I took the basic hulls from the alien designs, stripped out everything but the engines, and handed them over to the new cube. Hopefully I'd get something worthwhile out of it. If not, oh well.

In the meantime, I took a crack at modifying the Omega Battleship instead. I needed it to be able to launch from the ground, rather than needing to be built in space. Fortunately, gravity manipulation let me cheat like a motherfucker. I stripped out the engines and replaced them with a gravity drive. I had to modify the profile a bit to give in a flat surface to rest on, but once I was done, I had an Omega that could land on a planet without issue. I decided to name my new design the Sigma surface-to-space battleship, and queued up a few of them in my hangar. Outfitted with my heaviest weaponry and carrying my biggest and most powerful electromagnetic shield to date, I'd back the Sigma against the Ethereals' battleships at anything less than ten-to-one odds.

And with the entire economy of the moon at my disposal? The Sigma might be my most expensive unit by a significant margin, but even it was ultimately completely expendable.

Now, if only I knew what the Temple Ship was actually capable of, then I'd be able to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

* * *

I really need to keep a closer eye on my Data Cubes. Cube Seven in particular. I gave it the UFO hulls. It gave me back a design in a matter of minutes, not the hours or days I was expecting. And now I have _concerns_.

You see, it didn't go the obvious route of building a better warship, using one of the less terrible UFO hulls as a starting point. No, it latched onto the Abductor, the worst design of the lot, and gave me _this_. Right, you have no idea what "this" is. Well, it starts with an Abductor hull with everything important moved to the spine of the ship. With the vital systems now in the center of the ship, it proceeded to mount a laser from the Avenger in the nose. That's not the scary part. The scary part is what it did with the ship's wings.

Apparently it took inspiration from my stunt with the battleship, because it had a new design for a fusion warhead ready to go. Having been given the opportunity to design a space ship, it proceeded to install rotary three shot magazines in each of the wings of the ship, built to launch missiles containing said fusion warheads. You read that right, the design it gave me was a mobile orbital nuclear missile silo.

Yeah, saving that as the Apophis Missile Cruiser, calling that a day. As I said, _concerns_. Hopefully I never have a reason to deploy this thing. Though it could be useful against the Temple Ship.

Oh, the base assault is wrapping up. I really should look in on that.

* * *

The last Outsider shattered into fragments. The XCOM medic who delivered the final shot gave its fragmented core a kick, then turned to Van Doorn. "Area's secure, boss."

"Not bad," the Major said, turning to my squad "leader". "Nice working with you."

"Likewise," I stated. "As per our agreement with your Commander, the salvage is yours, but we get to scan any unusual tech first."

"Sounds good, salvage isn't our job anyways," Van Doorn said. "I'm guessing you're gonna want to scan that thing." He jerked his head at the hyperwave relay.

"Scan is already in progress." The other Asclepius had moved up and was leveling its repair arm at the relay, the diagnostic function kicking in. Ah good, I might not know how it worked just yet, but in a few minutes I'd be able to build one.

"Our job here's done then," Van Doorn said. "You guys have a ride home, yes?"

"We have transportation," I said.

"Great," he said. "Hey, quick favor. Could you take off your helmet? I want to see what my new best friend looks like."

"Not without tools I do not have here," I stated.

"That sucks," Van Doorn sighed. "Oh well, see you around then."

"To you as well."

* * *

Well, I'd say that was a success. Making friends in XCOM, one dead alien at a time. I do love making new friends.

Right, hyperwave relay. I started building one right away, but not before handing over the full scan to Data Cube Three. I was pretty sure it didn't _need_ psionics to work, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was some intersection between the two.

Oh, and SHIV data. That went to Cube Number Two. As vehicles went, SHIVs were pretty minimal, just an engine, treads, and a gun, but that wasn't a bad thing. Hmm. Most of my ground tech was actually pretty small by Commander standards. Hmm. Tech 0.5? Eh, whatever, it was working just fine for my current porpoises. Purposes. Words. Apparently becoming a Commander hadn't fixed that tendency of mine. Wonderful.

* * *

As this month's shipment to XCOM, mostly just alloy and a pair of Horuses loaded up, I considered my next move. Simply put, what was left for me to do here? All the aliens had left that could actually a pose a threat to me was the Temple Ship. All of their tech that I didn't have yet was also on the Temple Ship. The Hyperwave Relay should let me connect directly to their communication network, but I had no way of knowing if the Temple Ship was actually _on_ the network at the moment.

In the end, it all boiled down to the Temple Ship. And for me to safely eliminate that, I needed a powerful friendly psi.

Time for me to really get to work.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"So. Let me see if I have this correct," XCOM's Commander stated. "You are a human, from a parallel universe. You went to sleep, then awoke in the body of a sentient war machine from a third parallel universe. And both this universe and the universe of the war machine you have become are fiction from your original universe."

"Yes," I said. Given what I had and what I needed, I had decided a policy of full disclosure was most likely to get me the results I wanted. "I know how the invasion ends. Or rather, I know two possible endings for it. I'd rather avoid the second, however."

"What is this ending you'd like to avoid?" Vahlen asked.

"XCOM loses. Earth falls. The Commander is captured and used as a nexus for their psionic control network. Vahlen's mad scientist tendencies come to the fore and she unleashes three super aliens upon the world. Bradford and Shen do their best to rebuild XCOM as an insurgent group, Shen giving his life for the cause. Earth spends the next twenty years under alien occupation." My insignia blinked once. "I'd rather avoid that."

"I believe we can all agree on that," the Commander said. "I assume the alternative is preferable."

"Yes," I said. "The Hyperwave Relay is the first part of the puzzle. With it, you will be able to locate a UFO of the Overseer class. Aboard the Overseer, you will encounter one of the true leaders of this invasion, the Ethereals. There will also be a device on board that you must capture intact. This will convince the aliens to show their full hand."

"And then what?" Bradford asked.

"And then the Temple Ship will emerge," I said. "I trust my ability to destroy their fleet. The Temple Ship on the other hand, I am rather wary of."

"By your own admission, you have converted the moon into your own personal subterranean fortress," Shen said. "And in a matter of months at that."

"Weeks, not months," I corrected.

Shen simply nodded at the correction before continuing. "I have to ask, what could you find so alarming about this Temple Ship that you doubt your ability to deal with it?"

"A fair question," I said. "There are a collection of factors responsible for my caution. The first being size. I do not have anything like exact numbers, but the Temple Ship is a colossal vessel. It serves as the mobile base for the aliens, and all of their ships deploy from it. Their battleships are to it what fighters are to an aircraft carrier. That alone would make me cautious regarding my ability to defeat it."

"I should think so!" Vahlen stated. "How is a ship that size even possible?"

"I don't know," I said. "However, that brings us to the second cause of my caution. The Temple Ship is home to the leader of the invasion, the Uber Ethereal, and his, its, attendants. The psionic might within the ship is substantial to say the least. I have been struggling for more than a month to comprehend precisely how psionics work, with limited success. I cannot guarantee my ability to handle that aspect of the situation either."

"That's why you want our data on psionics then, isn't it?" the Commander asked.

"Psionics are a trait of organic life," I said. "There's only so much I can learn from scans of corpses, even with the processing power at my disposal. Hopefully, I can use the data from your own psionics program to fill in the gaps of my knowledge. The third aspect of the Temple Ship which has me concerned is that, unlike every other ship in the invaders' armada, it can escape. It possesses FTL capability, evidently utilizing some form of wormhole drive. I am currently developing FTL of my own, but it is not ready for deployment, and I have no way of tracking, much less pursuing, the Temple Ship should it chose to retreat. To that end, the only way to reliably take it down is to utilize the invaders' arrogance against them, and take it out from within."

"Where's the catch?" the Commander asked.

"The Uber Ethereal's death will put the Temple Ship's systems into a runaway catastrophic failure," I said. "The bad news is the mechanism for the failure. Without a powerful psi on hand to take control of the situation, well, again, I do not have precise data, but the Temple Ship will imitate a collapsing star, producing a massive gravity well akin to a black hole. At minimum, the Earth would be destroyed. At worst, the entire solar system would be consumed."

"But a sufficiently skilled psionic soldier can prevent this disaster?" Shen asked.

"Yes," I said. "Unfortunately, I can't guarantee their survival. You should ensure that whoever volunteers for this mission is aware that it is most likely a suicidal one."

"Understood," the Commander said. "So, you need us to provide a psionic soldier and convince the invaders to reveal themselves. In return, what are you offering?"

"There are limits to what I can do without tipping off the invaders," I said. "I'd rather avoid them deviating from the script, as I have no idea what they might do if given reason to. What I can do is continue to provide you with war material. As I no longer need to hide my true nature, you may expect much larger and more frequent shipments from me. Additionally, if you wish, I will provide you with some of my combat units for deployment alongside your own troops. Finally, I was able to pilfer a substantial amount of data from the aliens. I imagine you noticed the fusion explosion in high orbit a few weeks ago?"

"We noticed."

"That was me hiding the evidence of my theft," I said. "I captured one of their battleships and tapped into its databanks. As a result, I possess all the information contained within. I am willing to share this data."

"I have one question," the Commander said. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to," I said. "When you are as powerful as I have become, there is very little that can truly force you to action. As a result, my choices are solely driven by own desires and convictions. I want to help you. So help you I have."

There was a moment of silence before the Commander spoke again. "I believe we should get to work on the relay then."

Yes! I love working with intelligent people! "Thank you," I said. "I'll be in touch."

"Before you depart, a question," the Commander said. "You introduced yourself as Commander Kappa, but said that I could call you Phoenix."

"Commander Kappa is what I am," I said. "It's part of my serial number. Phoenix is who I am. It's my chosen name. Be seeing you, Commander."

"Very well, Phoenix," the Commander said, cutting the channel.

I love it when a gamble pays off. Tremble alien invaders, for the alliance of man and metal is coming for you.

* * *

So now I wait. Yay?

No really, I had nothing to do. Data pilfering and advancing the plot were dependent on XCOM getting things done, which I'd already done my best to accelerate. The Data Cubes were all working on their assigned tasks, so that was just a matter of waiting as well. My base was well and truly up and running at this point, so I really had nothing I needed to build. My fleet was ready too. Nearly a hundred thousand Horus Mark IIIs sat waiting in their launch tubes, while eight hundred Sigmas were waiting in the two hundred concealed hangars buried beneath the lunar surface. I even had a dozen Apophis cruisers, their ready racks already loaded with their nuclear payload.

In short, I was bored.

So, in light of my boredom, I brought up the Ethereals' organic technology.

The Ethereals are... interesting, in terms of their organic technology. I think, on some level, they don't actually "get" organic life. After all, they're not entirely corporeal beings in the first place. Anyways, the result is that they're rather good at tweaking existing organisms, but they can't seem to fabricate anything truly new. Their most ambitious project was turning the Vipers into the Thin Men, but even that wasn't really new, as they had working examples of both their starting point and their goal. It's entirely possible that they didn't actually create this tech in the first place, which is why their understanding of it is rather... limited. Not really surprising, seeing as the Ethereals aren't really a civilization in the proper sense in the first place.

Right, take stock of what I do have. Stasis tanks, surgical data, gestation pods... No surprises there, everything you'd need to make a cyborg clone army. Genetic sequences... eh. Nothing terribly interesting, though their tweaking methods were intriguing. Basically a forced DNA copying error, though the exact mechanism is a lot more complicated than that description implies. Hmm. Well, I had no real need for a clone army, or really a clone anything at this point, but it was somewhat interesting.

Hmm. Wait, that's the data on Cyberdisk genetic structure. They don't use DNA, they're silicon-based life, but they do have an analogue. Fascinating. This would require further study. I considered tasking a Data Cube with the analysis, but decided against it. I was bored, and everyone needs a hobby. And thrashing people in online RTS games gets old after a while.

* * *

The next month or so as XCOM worked on the Relay was relatively calm. The single biggest moment of excitement was when the Commander informed me of an unusual situation in Newfoundland, and requested I deploy a satellite to investigate. I sent sixty of my Vikings instead, and burned the chryssalid-infested town to ash. I was not inclined to fuck around with that many bugs.

That caused a brief bit of friction between us until I explained my reasoning. Eventually, the Commander conceded that I had a point. She did thank me for not dropping a nuke on the site though. She thought she was being sarcastic. I quickly cleared up that little misconception for her.

Aside from that, the next big development was the Overseer. That... did not go quite as planned.  


* * *

  
The UFO went down over northern Canada. The sort of place where there are more moose than people. The plan was that my troops would land first, serving as the expendable shock troops to shatter the enemy resistance before XCOM arrived to take control of the situation.

That was where things started going wrong. You see, I had forgotten one very crucial detail.

* * *

My first twelve bots engaged the enemy, trading weapons fire with casualties on both sides. Fine, neither of us cared about the scrubs we were losing. Even as the fight bogged down, my second wave arrived to reinforce my position. Twenty or so kill bots was more than enough to deal with the mutons, cyberdisks, and mectoids that were throwing themselves at me. Even the arrival of a surprise sectopod barely slowed me down as three Longbow bots hammered it to scrap with their railguns.

And then it emerged. The Ethereal. Robes flapping in the wind, the face obscured by its helmet, and the four muton elites that formed its honor guard.

My bots raised their weapons. The Ethereal raised two of its hands. Then every single one of my bots went dead.

I couldn't blink exactly, but my processor gave a sort of stutter-lurch as nineteen nodes just went offline. What the hell just happened? It only took me a moment to realize what I'd forgotten.

Rift.

Ordinary psionic fuckery does very little to my troops. Mindfray? Mind Control? What mind? Psi Panic? Good luck. But Rift is different. It's bad enough against organics, but against bots, it absolutely mulches them. Shit. I launched two more squads of bots towards the downed ship, but they'd take a while to get there. In the meantime, I contacted the Commander.

* * *

"Phoenix, situation report," the Commander said.

"Site is not secured, I repeat, site is NOT secured," I said. "My forces inflicted heavy casualties on the hostile conventional troops, but the Ethereal just wiped out my entire force."

"They're that powerful?" the Commander asked.

"Against robots? Yes. I forgot they could just tear open a rift of psionic 'up yours'. My bots have no defense against that sort of thing."

"But my troops do?"

"Organic willpower seems to blunt the effect," I said. "It's still very dangerous."

"Understood. Well, we weren't expecting this to be easy."

"I have additional forces en route, but they won't arrive for some time," I said. "Your squad is going to have to face the Ethereal without me."

"Understood," the Commander said, nodding.

* * *

I can't believe I forgot about Rift. And Psionic Lance would be just as deadly against my bots. I needed a defense. Something to make my bots more resistant to the Ethereals' powers.

Time to start innovating.

* * *

Never before had I felt so outclassed. Even when I'd been a human, faced with impossible challenges, I'd never been casually brushed aside the way I just had. Now, with the power of a Commander, the ability to shatter planets at my fingertips, well, to say that my defeat stung would be an understatement.

There were ways of working around the problem, sure. Throw enough dakka at any problem and it'll eventually go away. That would be the Commander thing to do. Against a foe my own equal, that is precisely what I would do. But the Ethereals were not my equals. They were as ants before me, before the power I could truly bring to bear. And I would not do them the honor of treating them as anything more than that. I refused to let their powers dictate the terms of engagement.

Each data cube had always worked independently, pursuing their own projects. Now, I pulled them from their tasks, turning my entire computational might upon the current challenge. The Ethereals would fall before me. Anything else was unacceptable. Any other outcome was impossible.

* * *

My forces arrived in the middle of a pitched battle between eight of XCOM's finest soldiers and the Ethereal and its entourage. I wasted no time trying to organize a proper assault. The Ethereal could wipe my bots out at any moment. Instead, each bot fired as soon as it was able. Lasers, railguns, flamethrowers, and grenade launchers bellowed hate at the enemy position. The hastily aimed shots went wide more often than not, and one by one my bots were annihilated by the psionic monster they were assailing, but the land around it burned and cracked as my assault tore the area apart. The muton elites died, crushed by the sheer weight of fire my forces carried. And still, that blasted Ethereal just hovered there, tearing my robots apart like a child plucking the wings from a fly.

A Bowman leveled both laser cannons, only for a lance of psychic energy to punch through the core, obliterating its vital systems. A Longbow attempted to set up a shot, only for the railgun to be ripped from its mount by a pulse of psionic energy. A pair of Crusaders rushed in, grenade flying. All were brushed aside, turned back, _rejected_. Until the Viking, hidden behind the shattered remains of two of its brothers, launched itself forward, coming down from above with its hand spikes extended, flamethrowers spewing molten death. The Ethereal turned its hands glowing purple as it projected pure power between itself and the Viking. My bot hit a wall in the air and hung there, suspended by the might of the Ethereal. There was a second's pause.

Then the Ethereal staggered, then collapsed.

"Such an arrogant creature, forgetting to watch its back," Shaojie "Chilong" Zhang said, lowering his smoking Arc Thrower.

"There will be more of them," I said through my damaged Viking, troubled by how powerful the creature had truly proven to be. The game did not do Ethereals justice.

"Let them come," Zhang said. "We will end them all."

* * *

Every last scrap of data from the engagement with the Ethereal was entered into my combined processing power. Every iota of information I'd stolen from their ships, from their network, from their bodies, all of it was entered into the networked processor system. Every conclusion, theory, and variable Data Cube 3 had developed over the last two months brought to bear. There would not be a repeat of the Overseer debacle.

With the combined power of seven thousand cubic kilometers of computational substrate, bolstered by the considerable power of my own mind, I took every piece of knowledge I had. And with it, I crafted a _solution_.

* * *

It was slow to awake, the vastly different components of its being taking time to properly integrate. The limbs, metal and silicates formed into muscles, bones, and skin. The body, built to withstand anything short of an antimatter explosion. The mind. The Mind was the key. No mere robot this, no unthinking drone. This, this was so much more.

My first Synthetic Psionic Soldier took its first steps.

And the world would never be the same.

* * *

I flexed my new limbs, feeling the smooth power of my new body. I looked over at where my old body was undergoing careful disassembly. The critical components would soon be incorporated into my new form. A feeling of vicious satisfaction flowed through me. This venture was a risky one, but my gamble had paid off. The Ethereals would never again outclass me as they first had.

* * *

My new body was the culmination of all the information the Ethereals possessed on psionics, genetic manipulation, and cybernetic enhancement. It was grown, not constructed as my other units were. It was a living thing, a hybrid of silicon and carbon-based life. Standing at a respectable eight meters tall, it was smaller than my old body, and somewhat frailer as a result, but it came with quite a few advantages.

The silicate muscle structure possessed an agility even my best bots would never be able to equal. The progenitor alloy skeleton and armored skin gave the body surprising resilience. The incorporated electromagnetic shield could stop a starship's full firepower in its tracks. Rather than construct a dedicated fabricator arm, I had opted for a dozen Drone Workers, deployed from docks on my new body's back. The resource core from my old chassis would be installed shortly, followed by the armored plating to protect it.

Bipedal locomotion was mine once more, as were fingers. However, more significantly, I was now running on what might be the strangest piece of computational hardware ever designed. The computer core was present, operating just like the brain in my old body, but the secondary nodes were very different. Organic in nature, they took the best parts of the sectoid and human brain patterns to create an intelligent, powerful, and above all, psionically capable node attached directly to my conventional computational cortex.

Sensors whirred to life, augmenting my simpler optics, but my attention was focused inwards as the psi nodes came online. The exact limits of this power weren't known to me, but as it was now mine to wield, I intended to find out.

I turned, my neck rotating smoothly to take in the much smaller tanks where my synthetic psionic soldiers were growing. It was slower than my older methods of unit construction, but I deemed the trade off acceptable in light of the improved capabilities the new bodies offered.

My new warriors.

My Incarnations.

* * *

"Commander," I said, the connection to X-COM online.

"You sound different," Bradford said.

"New hardware platform," I stated. "It's taking time to integrate all my protocols."

"Would this have anything to do with why we haven't heard from you in two weeks?" the Commander asked.

"My apologies, I was forced to pull most of my computational resources from non-essential tasks to complete development in a reasonable time frame," I stated. "Fortunately I met with success. I can assure you, the disaster of the Overseer assault will not see a repeat."

"I suppose that will have to do, Commander Kappa." Oh, I get the feeling something happened while I was out of it.

"Again, I apologize for my inactivity," I said. "What is the current situation?"

"Our schedule has been delayed," the Commander said. "The invaders launched a direct assault on XCOM's facilities. We were able to repulse them, but there were significant casualties and structural damage. We're still rebuilding."

Base Defense. Shit, I completely forgot about that. "Understood," I stated. "In that case, I will take over ground operations for a time to give you a chance to get back on your feet. If you could send me a list of materials needed for reconstruction, I will deliver them to you."

"We'll be sure to do that," Bradford said.

"We also have reason to believe the aliens have constructed a new base, this time in northern China," the Commander said. "We currently do not possess the forces necessary to take the base."

"Consider it gone," I said. "I'll inform you at the conclusion of the operation so your salvage teams can move in."

"Very well," she said. "We'll have the list of necessary materials sent to you shortly."

"I understand," I said. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your people."

"Do better next time," she said, cutting the channel.

So much for my feeling of triumph.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Before, I had been in the position of a single controlling intelligence with an ever expanding body. Sure, my units had autonomous functionality, but it was more like cells than anything else. Now... well, I was something else.

* * *

A dozen of my new soldiers, my Incarnations, loaded into the unit cannon, ready for deployment. The Incarnations were essentially my new body in miniature. Shorter than the Crusaders, standing a little over two and a half meters tall, their structure was far more sophisticated than the Crusaders and their variants, resulting in a frame that was faster, stronger, and tougher than the Crusader chassis could ever hope to be.

Like the Crusaders however, the Incarnations came in different versions.

The standard loadout I dubbed the Sekhmet. It mounted a laser beam in the wrists of both arms, micro missile launchers in the shoulders, and retractable claws in the fingers with reservoirs of an acid derived from Thin Man biology for injecting into enemies.

For heavy demolition, I created the Menhit. It had heavier rockets mounted in external shoulder launchers, micro grenade launchers in the wrists, and a particle cannon in the chest.

For scouting, I created the Montu. A lighter version of the Sekhmet, the Montu traded the lasers for grappling hooks, and the micro missiles for the best cloaking device I could create. A lighter laser was mounted in the face, giving it some ranged ability, and powerful anti-gravity generators were built into its legs, giving it extreme mobility.

For sniping, the Neith was my answer. The lasers, micro missiles, the claws of the Sekhmet were nowhere to be found. Instead, mounted in the arms were a pair of extendable pulsed electron cannons, derived from the cyberdisk's weapons, but far more deadly thanks to improved control over the particle stream and a far more potent power plant.

The Bast was my answer to the need for a medic. It kept the claws and laser of the Montu, upgraded with hefty capacitor for the laser, but mounted a more powerful version of the shield than the other Incarnations. Nanobot sprayers mounted in the wrists would let it perform field repairs.

For close quarters combat, the Sobek took the field. Retractable blades of progenitor alloy extended from the wrists, and with but a thought could be cloaked in blazing plasma. The Sobek mounted the same mobility improving anti-grav generators as the Montu, turning it into a fast moving dervish of murder. The shoulder mounted micro missiles from the Sekhmet rounded out the arsenal.

All of the Incarnations could channel psionic power thanks to the carbon-organic sections of their processing centers, but for true psionic combat, I needed something special. Enter the Thoth. Armed with the light face laser and claws of the Montu, its true purpose was the numerous organic sub-brains scattered through its body, letting me bring impressive amounts of psionic force to bear. I wasn't sure how it would stand up to an Ethereal, but I was looking forwards to finding out.

And all of them were me. Not just extensions of me, as my mechanical units were, but _me_. Multiple copies of my mind, my personality, all working in unison. Infinitely reduced from the abilities my prime identity wielded, but still possessed of my identity.

What do you call a hive mind that's only made of copies of a single mind? Whatever you call it, that was what I, what _we_ had become. Pronouns were about to get weird, weren't they? Fuck it, using the singular to describe myself. Even if I was now plural.

Time to visit my wrath upon the aliens.

* * *

The unit cannon pods landed near the entrance to the alien base in China. In theory, I needed a key to get in. In practice, I had a Thoth.

The concealed door to the base was a solid construction of alien alloy, reinforced with magnetic fields and interlocking layers of protection. None of this protected it from the telekinetic force I brought to bear on it. My Thoth body extended its hands and made a pulling gesture, tearing great chunks of alloy out of the door. Rockets from a Menhit streaked in and blew the weakened door to splinters. A pair of Sobeks leapt through the gaping hole, plasma blades blazing as they carved through a quintet of chryssalids that never even realized they were under attack.

The rest of the squad dropped in, moving with a grace that belied their size. A Montu grappled its way up the ceiling, the gravity generators in its legs letting it sprint along upside-down without a care in the world. My Neiths turned as one and struck a squad of heavy floaters from the air, electron pulses blowing through armor and scattering pieces of the corpses across the ground. A pair of Mectoids moved up only for the Sekhmets to cut loose with their micro missiles, blowing the alien cyborgs to scrap. A Sectopod stomped through the wreckage and fired on my position, only for a Bast to step into the blast, blocking, capturing, and absorbing it. A moment later the laser in its head flashed as the power of the Sectopod's assault flowed into it. The narrow beam lanced out, spearing straight through the Sectopod's main cannon, cutting alloy plating like it was cutting through cardboard.

This was how it should be, my superior technology driving the enemy before me, casting back the darkness with fire and steel. And now with powers beyond that.

A Sectoid Commander moved forwards. Unlike the Crusaders, the Incarnations were not immune to the Commanders' tricks. On the other hand, raw power is a pretty good deterrent. The Thoth moved to the front, psionic power pooling as it struck out against the sectoid. Minds clashed, the Sectoid Commander's pitiful consciousness against the combined power of a dozen of my minds. The sectoid's head exploded as my power slammed into it, turning its skull inside out.

Yes, this was how this should play out.

* * *

"The base is in ruins," I informed Bradford, the Commander being "occupied elsewhere". Likely getting some much needed sleep, if I were to guess. Not that Bradford would admit to such a thing. "Your salvage teams can move to recover the materials now."

"Understood," Bradford said.

"Any word on the Ethereal device?" I asked.

"Last I heard, Vahlen was making progress," Bradford said. "No idea when-"

Every alarm I had went off at once. A massive distortion ripped open the space above the South Atlantic ocean. When my sensors adjusted to the interference I had to stop and marvel at the construct I was now witness to. A behemoth of alloy and elerium, the Temple Ship hovered above the Earth's surface, its mere existence inside a planets atmosphere a violation of multiple laws of physics.

I finally had solid numbers on how big the thing was. It was larger than I had expected. See, I was predicting maybe ten kilometers in length. Big, terrifying, but within reason. I was wrong. This was closer to fifty kilometers long, a massive ship capable of wiping out all life on Earth.

"Well," I said. "Looks like the clock's ticking."

"Looks like," Bradford said.

* * *

"And you can't just shoot it down?" Bradford asked.

"No," I said. "Okay, yes, I _could_ , but you _really_ don't want me to. An object that size lithobraking would be an extinction event on par with the Chicxulub impact, and that's _before_ the black hole weirdness kicks in."

"Lithobraking?" Bradford asked.

"The technical term for crashing into the ground," Shen provided.

"Look, so it's bigger than I was expecting," I said. "A lot bigger. That doesn't change anything. The plan remains the same. Activate the Ethereal device, infiltrate the ship, decapitate the invasion. While your forces are entering the ship, I will be launching several parallel incursions to take the pressure off your squad. Additionally, once your people are on board, I intend to wipe out the Ethereal fleet."

"I suppose that's the best we can ask for," the Commander said. "Shen, Vahlen, what is our timetable on the chamber's construction?"

"Another week," Shen said. "We're pushing as hard as we can, but for something this complex, it takes time."

"Understood," the Commander said. "You're already making me a miracle here, I won't ask you to rush it." She turned back to me. "You are asking my soldiers to go toe-to-toe with the invaders' strongest, on board their command ship."

"I am," I agreed. "Do you have a better plan?"

"If I did, we would not be discussing this one," she said.

"Fair enough. If our timetable is one week, I need to start making preparations," I said. "Let me know when you're ready to activate the device. I'll be there to provide support."

* * *

Right, prep work. I'd have liked a bit more time, but time hates everyone and never gives you enough of it. Oh well, I'd make do. The far side of the moon became the scene of a frenzy of activity as thousands of Horuses launched into space, followed by hundreds of Sigmas. In among the formation were several dozen Lampreys. About two thirds were the original Lamprey design, built to spit out Crusaders, but there were twenty of the new Lamprey-Bs, which traded the stripped down bot factory for transport space. Each Lamprey-B carried sixteen Incarnations, ready to deploy into the target vessel.

It was a fleet built for one purpose, the annihilation of the Ethereal armada.

They set their vectors and then went dark, dropping into ballistic courses that, in one week's time, would take them slashing through Earth's orbit from a hundred different directions. There would be no escape for the aliens. There would be no mercy. There would be no survivors.

* * *

Everything was ready. XCOM was prepared to perform their strike, and my own forces were moving into position. The solar system seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the curtain to rise on the drama. Time to put an end to this.

I knew the moment XCOM triggered the Ethereal device. Partially because they were keeping me up to date on it as a matter of course, but also because it provoked an immediate reaction from the Temple Ship. Dozens of battleships deployed from the ship, spreading out across the globe.

I watched as the Skyranger departed from XCOM, laden with the strike team. The hangar opened up for them. Time to move.

My ships powered up, first a handful, then in the hundreds, then thousands as reactors and engines kicked to life. Hordes of Horuses descended into the atmosphere to annihilate the battleships. One on one, the battleships would probably hold a narrow advantage over a Horus. Which is why I deployed them in groups of ten.

I briefly watched a battleship struggle to evade the wolfpack I sent its way. The Horuses swept in, surrounding the battleship, lasers firing. Fusion lance blasts reached out, but splattered against the Horus's shields, unable to overcome the fighters' defenses. A laser beam struck home in the engines, slowing the battleship for the other Horuses. A second laser struck the primary fusion lance emitter, silencing it. Then a blast caught the wounded vessel amidships. A secondary explosion blasted back out, throwing a plume of shrapnel across the sky. The battleship plumeted, catching fire as it fell. More laser blasts cut the falling ship into pieces, scattering it across the ground.

Sigmas, better suited to combat in vacuum, punched out the alien craft still in orbit, wiping them from space. Laser beams sliced apart alien hulls, turning them into little more than metallic confetti.

Finally, the Lampreys emerged, dropping towards the bulk of the Temple Ship. XCOM's soldiers were already on board. Time for me to join the party.

* * *

 _And now the New One's hidden ally, the Other, enters our domain.  
_  
"Good of you to show up," Van Doorn said, taking in the Incarnations that had just landed in front of him. "Liking the new look, very sleek."

"I needed an upgrade," I said.

Van Doorn blinked. "Okay, could you not do that? It's weird."

"Do what?" I asked.

"That. That thing where all of you speak at once."

What was he- Oh. Oops. That... was not intentional. At all. Unexpected problem of multiple synchronized minds, every me tries to talk at once. Um. Not sure how to fix that, actually... Okay, for the time being, switch the audio communicators off in all but one of them. Bit of a brute force solution, but until I could figure out a way to make sure only one me was talking at a time, it would have to do. "Sorry, I was not aware that I was doing it."

"How could you not realize that eight of you are talking instead of one?" a trooper with a rocket launcher hanging down his back asked.

"Recent hardware and software updates. Distributed consciousness, personality forks, weird dual core operating system, and all manner of other complications," I said. "It seems I have a few kinks I need to work out still."

"As long as you don't go nuts on us during the fight, we should be fine," Van Doorn said.

"Don't tempt fate," a woman said. "This is risky enough."

"Commander Kappa, this is Annette Durand," Bradford's voice came over the comms. "She's our volunteer."

"Pleasure to meet you," I said. "Are they talking to you too?"

"You can hear them?" she asked.

"Only once so far, but if I remember correctly, they're pretty talkative. Comes of being a bunch of religious fanatics. Or something approximating religion at least."

"Well then, let's go introduce them to whatever approximates their god," the rocketeer said.

"I have numerous other forces moving throughout the ship," I said. "Hopefully they'll pull some of the enemy forces out of our path."

"Enough dawdling, let's move!" Van Doorn said.

* * *

Throughout the Temple Ship, my soldiers were moving with purpose. The Incarnations I broke off into eight unit squads, two squads per Lamprey-B, meaning forty squads in all. Thirty nine if you didn't count the one I assigned to XCOM. Each squad included two Sekhmets, one Montu, one Bast, one Neith, one Menhit, one Sobek, and one Thoth, letting them handle anything they ran into. They were backed up by hundreds of Crusaders, with more being produced every eight seconds.

My goals were as follows:

One: Acquire any and all information on their FTL.

Two: Acquire other technological and genetic data.

Three: Acquire information on the wider galaxy.

Four: Acquire schematics for the Temple Ship itself.

The Temple Ship's schematics were not a high priority for me. Even if I acquired them, I would have a very hard time using them. Building something this size... I suppose massed orbital constructors could do it, but... no. Just, no. I had better things to do.

 _The Other, so like the New Ones, yet so different. Possessed of a... hunger, paired with an extraordinary arrogance. It is powerful, cunning, and... curious, but in the end, it lacks the... promise the New One shows.  
_  
Oh do shut up. I have better things to do than listen to you prattle on about your mysterious goals.

Unlike the group working with XCOM, the rest of my forces lacked a clear sense of where to go. The Temple Ship's construction was so unorthodox that I had no idea where to even start looking for the things I needed. Right, some basic assumptions to give me at least something to work off of. FTL is hard. Hard things take a lot of energy. While the FTL drive wasn't on at the moment, tracking power conduits would still be a good way to find either it or the main reactor, which would be a nice consolation prize and give me a good place to continue my search from.

My Incarnations fanned out, leading an army of Crusaders behind them.

* * *

"So are all of your new guys psychic?" Van Doorn asked as a Sekhmet lashed out with a blast of telekinetic force, stripping away the enemy's cover.

"That was the idea," I said, speaking through the Thoth. "I wasn't sure how well it would work at first, but I seem to have gotten it right."

"So what are we doing here then?" the rocketeer asked, ducking behind cover.

"Killing the alien bastards that thought they could invade our planet." Van Doorn raised his machine gun and hosed the mutons with laser fire.

"That, and my existence is pretty heavily classified," I commented. "So you guys get to be the official story."

"So we get all the credit?" a medic asked. "Sweet, always wanted to save the world."

* * *

This is not the FTL drive. Nor is this the main reactor. Or even the engines. This is... actually, I'm not sure _what_ this is. I have a hunch though.

The squad's Montu cloaks, moving into the vast cavern in front of me. Sensors sweep the area, trying to confirm my suspicion. It doesn't take long. This is the industrial center of the Temple Ship. Everything they use, they make here. Their alloy is being created from raw materials in giant smelters. Elerium is being synthesized, the crystals growing within tanks that are being subjected to a constant radiation bath. A bit lower down and I see sectopods under construction. Hoo, that's a lot of enemy armor there. At the very bottom of the center is a series of machines creating the various pieces of the alien ships. I'm pretty sure there's more industrial capacity here than some mid-sized countries have at their disposal. It's nothing compared to mine, but that's not a surprise. It's still impressive though.

I take scans of the various pieces of equipment. Might as well get everything, even if I don't actually have a use for it. However, I'm still no closer to finding what I actually want. Back trace the power conduits, the fact that there's actual power flowing through them making it a lot easier... And the main reactor should be in that direction. Hey, making progress!

* * *

"The universe hates us," the rocketeer mutters, dropping a shredder rocket into his launcher. "I swear it does."

"Nah, the universe doesn't care about you," my Menhit body says, ducking behind cover. One Sectopod, my bots could handle easy. Three Sectopods would still be pretty easy. Six is very much pushing it, particularly when they have some sort of super Sectopod leading them. Long War mod, so... Titan, I think it's called. Whatever you call it, it's bad news. "The aliens, they hate you. Well, actually they don't, they kind of... Not like you exactly, but they have hope for you. Of course they're more than a little crazy, so it works out about the same."

"Lovely," the rocketeer grumbles, raising his launcher and firing his shredder into the group of sectopods. My Menhit follows a moment later, shoulder mounted rockets firing. "Do you have any _good_ news?" the rocketeer, I really should learn his name at some point, asks.

"We're almost done?" I offer. "Just one more room left."

He blinks. "I guess that is good news."

* * *

Good news for the XCOM team. Not so good news for the rest of my troops. I'm running out of time to get what I need. Fortunately, one of my squads found the main reactor. It's actually several fusion reactors rather than a single reactor, which isn't really a surprise. Beyond a certain size, making a reactor bigger has rapidly diminishing returns. Multiple reactors is much better.

Huh. I think that might be the first time the aliens have made a design choice I actually approve of. I also have access to the Temple Ship's main computer system from here. Makes sense, the reactor is one of the best places to put your engineering staff, and the engineers need to know what's going on in the rest of the ship.

Or in this case, needed to know. They're dead now, so that's not really an issue for them anymore.

Alright, data time.

* * *

"Is it still talking to you?" my Bast asked Annette.

"Yes," she spits through gritted teeth as she takes a pot shot at one of the Ethereals. "It won't shut up. Can't you hear it?"

"No," I said. "It apparently decided I lack 'promise', whatever that means. It's been giving me the silent treatment ever since."

"Lucky you," Annette mutters, ducking under a bolt of psionic force. The Ethereals have already claimed two of my Incarnations, one of the Sekhmets and the Montu. In return, we've killed one of the lesser Ethereals. None of the XCOM soldiers have died, but there are a number of injuries, several fairly serious. We have the advantage, but the Ethereals aren't giving up without a fight.

Oh, that's not good.

* * *

Ugh, bandwidth limits _suck_. Ethereal computers are better than Earth's, but they're still _slow_ compared to me. I'm not going to be able to mine the ship's entire database before it's destroyed. Priorities! Downloading the full info on their FTL drive would take too long on its own. Fortunately, I know where it is now, and can send a squad to physically examine it. I should at least be able to build my own, and figure out how it actually works at my leisure.

Right. Technological data. Doesn't look like anything I don't have. There's some interesting stuff some of the civilizations they wiped out had, but the Ethereals didn't bother actually recording anything beyond basic descriptions for them. Yet another thing they've done that just offends me on a professional level. On a personal level, I don't have information on how to build meson guns because the Ethereals are a bunch of lazy shits. Damn it, I didn't really go into this wanting meson guns, but now that I know they exist, the fact that I don't have them irritates me. I'll feed what data they do have to one of my data cubes. Hopefully I can get something out of it.

Biological data. Now we're getting somewhere. A few new species, some more complete data on the ones I've already got... Not bad. I'm not going to be able to get everything in the time I have left, but I'll take what I can get. My Incarnations are living things after all, and I have every intention of upgrading them in the future.

Beginning download.

* * *

The Uber Ethereal is an absolute nightmare. Remember how I said the game doesn't do the normal Ethereals justice? Well, the uber is worse. So very much worse.

When its second subordinate died, it decided to stop toying with us. It opened up with the single biggest display of telekinesis I'd seen to date. It took out another two of my Incarnations and several of XCOM's soldiers with a storm of alloy shards, then hammered one of XCOM's two MEC troopers to scrap metal and something with a distinct resemblance to chunky salsa, all in a matter of seconds.

"I really hope you've got something for us," Van Doorn said, blood sheeting down his side. "Because that thing's tearing us up."

"I noticed," I muttered. My squad was down to half strength. The Bast, the Neith, one of the Sekhmets, and the Menhit were still active, but the others were gone. The Neith was spraying fire in the Ethereal's direction while the Menhit's internal fabricators went to work creating more ammunition for its depleted rocket launchers, but conventional solutions weren't working here. We needed something big.

"Hang on, I've got an idea." The Bast turned and ran for the exit.

"Why does that not reassure me?" Van Doorn said.

* * *

Well, that's the FTL drive. Not quite wormhole drive the way I thought, but a sort of translocation system. Um, putting that in more understandable terms, it doesn't open a proper wormhole, which connects two points in space-time, but rather it sort of... _wraps_ something akin to a wormhole around the ship. It's not quite hyperspace, not quite warp, and not quite a wormhole. It's weird, but it evidently works. I haven't the faintest clue _why_ it works, but that's not my problem right now.

Scanning of the massive construct is now complete, storing that file for later use.

Holy shit, I have FTL. SWEET!

Hmm. Let's go for a deeper look. Is there anything here that could function as a gravity bomb? I'd rather have a backup plan if things go pear shaped.

* * *

The arrival of a Sectopod in the melee is enough to trigger a brief pause in the fighting. In XCOM's case, it's because they're just this side of panicking at the sudden arrival of one of the most dangerous alien units. In the Ethereal's case, it's because it knows the Sectopod's not supposed to be there. And in my case, because my two surviving incarnation, the Menhit and the Sekhmet, the Neith having caught a psi lance in the interim, are ducking for cover.

My Bast jumps off the top of the Sectopod, landing directly in front of it. The Sectopod's front opens up, then fires its main cannon at my Bast. The massive plasma blast strike the Bast's shield, forming a swirling ball of energy. A moment later, the plasma feeds into the Bast's capacitor. A blast that can level buildings, absorbed into my Incarnation. The Bast's face plate opens, revealing the laser mounted there. I'm only getting one shot here. The Bast fires.

The beam lances out, narrow, thin, but enormously powerful. The Ethereal attempts to halt the beam, but there's too much energy in too small a space. The beam punches through, striking the Ethereal in the shoulder. It screams in pain as one of its arms falls to the ground, severed by the laser beam. A moment later the Bast explodes. It was never meant to channel that much power in a single shot. Oh well, it did its job.

With the Ethereal maimed, the battle turns in our favor. Blinding pain is not conducive to psionic powers, who'da thunk? It still manages to take out my new Sectopod rather quickly, but that was a rush job to begin with. I'm honestly amazed it survived firing even once. Still, the Ethereal is crippled, and XCOM wastes no time capitalizing. Lasers sleet down upon the Ethereal. The Sekhmet opens up with its micro missiles, and the Menhit fires everything, rocket launchers, grenades, and particle cannon, at the Ethereal. The wounded creature disappears under a blaze of fire.

When the smoke clears, it's on the ground, desperately trying to stand. Annette, blood flowing down the left side of her face, obscuring her eye, limps over to it.

 _This is not your path! Not your purpose! You need our guidance to hone this power… without us, what are you?  
_  
"Free," Annette says, placing her gun against the Ethereal's mask and pulling the trigger. The creature falls back, dead. The ship starts to tremble. "Everyone out!" Annette shouts. Van Doorn's looking mulish, but Annette glares at him. "I knew this was a one-way trip, now MOVE! Bouge, bon sang!"

"You heard the lady," my Sekhmet says, scooping up one of XCOM's wounded soldiers. "Let's go."

"Right, fine," Van Doorn says. He pauses just long enough to throw Annette a salute before turning to retreat.

* * *

After that, things get rather interesting rather quickly. As I suspected, the FTL drive is responsible for the black hole behavior. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to figure out why it does that or how to stop it. As such, I have no way of preventing disaster. Fortunately, Annette has things in hand. The power surge that's driving the black hole behavior is redirected into the engines, moving the ship up, away from the planet. A good start, but unless- okay, the reactors are being pushed into overload. Well, that's... a thing. They'll tear the ship apart when they go. I suppose that's one way to deal with this monstrosity of a ship. The FTL buildup is still active though, and unless- wait, what the hell is she _doing_?

No way. No flipping way. She's using the FTL drive. But not on the ship. No, she's using it on herself! She's going to teleport herself out. Where she'll end up, I have no idea, and I doubt she does either, but she's teleporting. And with it, she's taking the energy that would have created a black hole and dispersing it. Slick move, that.

Right, I have all the data I'm going to get. Upload it to my main processors, and-

 **BOOM**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Well, the Temple Ship went up just a _bit_ faster than I was expecting. It essentially went nova rather than turning into a black hole. Good thing Annette moved it, because if it had been closer to Earth, well, radiation is a thing. Fortunately atmosphere and the Earth's magnetic field are good shields. Speaking of Annette, I have no idea what happened to her. I know she got out before the blast, but I have absolutely no idea where she is, or how I might track her.

Unless one of those facts changes, I think I'm going to keep her survival to myself.

Getting back to the explosion however, guess what nearby celestial body has neither an atmosphere nor a strong magnetic field? If you said the moon, have a cookie! Yeah, that was... annoying. The fact that I keep everything underground meant I was protected from the worst of it, but enough radiation and EMP got through that I now have to go fix a sizable chunk of my base. More importantly, the blast wiped out the satellite I was using to communicate with XCOM, and it's going to take an hour or so to get a new one into position. Ugh.

Oh well, not that big a problem. And hey, it does give me time to sift through my new data.

Biological data. Nothing terribly interesting, though I will probably be making some minor tweaks to the Incarnations' design in the future. Some rather fascinating but horribly incomplete technical data. Most of it is unlikely to prove terribly useful, but it's worth hanging on to anyways. Unfortunately I wasn't able to retrieve any galactic maps, so I'm working with the fairly minimal map I pulled from the Battleship. Oh well, a little exploration never hurt anybody.

Speaking of exploration, FTL! Well, actually, two forms of FTL. The technical data I pulled was pretty minimal, but apparently it was just enough for Data Cube Six to finally give me a working Alcubierre-style warp drive. It's not exactly speedy, only about fifty times the speed of light, but that's still better than what I had. Best of all, it only requires a small amount of modification to the gravity drive I'm already using. It only takes a moment to whip up a Sigma Mark II, complete with FTL. The Lampreys are also pretty easy, while the new Horus Mark IV is a bit harder thanks to the smaller frame, but I manage. And I suppose I should do the Apophis as well, if only for the sake of completion.

However, that's a minor upgrade. The real prize is the Temple Ship's FTL. I've already constructed a replica of the ship's drive, and soon I should have a working concept of how it does what it does. I'm not sure how fast it is, but I'm guessing orders of magnitude better than my newly developed warp drive.

Should be fun. 

* * *

Oh good, communications are back up!

"Commander," I said as soon as the connection stabilized.

"Phoenix," she stated. "We lost contact with you. What happened?"

"I apparently need to update my EMP and radiation hardening processes," I said. "The Temple Ship's detonation wiped out my forces in Earth orbit, including the satellite I was using to communicate with you. I have a new one online now, but the damage sustained was irritating to say the least. How are things going down on Earth?"

"We're still handling communications from every government on Earth," she said. "However, the general mood is one of celebration."

"As it should be," I replied. "Right, cleanup. I'm leaving any and all wreckage to you. I'm not detecting any obvious hazards beyond Earth's ability to contain. I will warn you, however, that it's possible that there are escaped feral Chryssalids still on Earth."

"We're aware," the Commander said. "I doubt XCOM will be disbanding any time soon."

"Fair enough," I said. "I have something that might help on that front however. Sending data to you now."

"Insecticide?" the Commander says, squinting at the data.

"Essentially," I said. "It _should_ be relatively harmless to most forms of terrestrial life, but I don't have a full database to confirm that. Short version, a Chryssalid's respiratory system is a major weak point. Bugs that big struggle to breathe outside of high-oxygen atmospheres. Chryssalids are pretty good at compensating, but, well, this particular concoction should disable the mechanism they use. It likely won't kill them unless administered in excessively concentrated dosages, but it should slow them down a lot."

"I think we can find a use for that." She nodded. "Understand that we will be double checking this."

"Of course. On that note, I do believe our agreement is concluded," I said.

"What are you planning to do?" the Commander asks, eyes narrowing.

"In the short term? Analyze the Temple Ship's FTL mechanism. In the medium term, build a proper interstellar mothership of sorts for my own use. Likely nowhere near as big as the Temple Ship, but still pretty large. In the long term? Well, I was thinking I'd just leave. You've got things well in hand here."

"You're not going to share your technology."

"Hmmm, no, I don't think so," I said. "You'll have to satisfy yourself with what I've already sent you. Though I can't really take my current base with me, so I suppose it'll still be here for when your species get back to the moon. I will of course be encrypting my databases before I go, however."

"Why?"

"Because," I said. "I'm not going to just give it to you directly, but if you can earn it, well, who am I to stand in your way? That, and I find it amusing."

"You're doing this for your own entertainment."

"Commander, Commander, Commander, we've had this conversation before," I said. "That's the only reason I do _anything_. Entire cultures have prayed to beings lesser than what I have become. The only reason for me to do anything is because I choose to. And I choose to leave you a fun little puzzle to unlock. It's been a pleasure working with you, Commander."

"Likewise, I suppose," she said.

"Well then, that's it. Phoenix, signing off." 

* * *

Right, time for some actual orbital constructors. I remodeled them with my new Alcubierre-enabled grav drives, so they can also fill the role of air fabbers, or even go to other star systems. Well, sort of. 50 _c_ isn't _really_ interstellar travel speed. It takes a full week to go one light-year. That's... well, okay, you _can_ build an interstellar civilization with that, but it's not great. Mostly, it's just good for tooling around in-system at high speed.

Anyways, I now had plenty of time to do whatever I wanted. My first objective was figuring out the Temple Ship FTL drive. It's... well, I know _how_ it works, but I'm not quite sure how to _explain_ it. Eh, I'll take a crack at it anyways.

You know how you roll up a sock? Sort of turning it inside out and rolling it up on itself? Well, the drive... sort of does that. Except not really. It's more like pulling a section of spacetime into a different section of spacetime, but sort of inside out, so it encapsulates the ship, before putting it back such that it takes the ship with it... That's a truly terrible explanation, but it's the best I can really manage. It's not a wormhole drive. I honestly can't think of any FTL drive I've even heard of that works the way it does.

I'm calling it the Inversion Drive.

It's somewhat scaleable. Sort of. Not really. I'm never going to be able to put it on a Horus, and even a Sigma frame would have difficulty containing it to the point where it'd basically be a ship wrapped around the drive and the necessary power systems. Oh, did I forget to mention that this monster consumes a truly absurd amount of power, even by my standards? Because it really, really, really does. Oh well, I can work with it.

Now, for my new mobile base of operations. A mothership. The Ma'at.

Yes, I'm on an egyptian mythology kick. When you start designing giant starships, you can name them whatever you want.

The Ma'at is smaller than the Temple Ship, or rather it will be once I actually start building it. At a mere fourteen and a half kilometers long, it's still big, but not Temple Ship big. The basic design is a giant hexagonal prism, with a hexagonal pyramid at the front and a rather powerful cluster of engines at the back. It has a certain simple elegance to it in my opinion. Well, an elegance made up of giant severe angles, but harsh elegance is still elegance. Though now that I look at it, I might add wings to it or something so it stops looking so much like a giant pencil. Yeah, adding wings to four of the planes. It now looks like a giant arrow. That's... better, I guess.

It carries some fairly sizable mass and energy storage sections, an even more sizable array of reactors, both internal ones and deployable solar collectors, which should be more than enough to power the Inversion Drive, or anything else I might want to build for that matter. Speaking of building, the Ma'at contains a number of factories capable of constructing any of my space-worthy units, which is most of my non-ground units. The drones are... sort of space-worthy. They can manage in space, but they're really slow. Anyways. It also contains factories for producing Crusaders and growth pods for Incarnations, as well as a trio of unit cannons, so orbital insertion of ground troops is entirely possible.

Alas, I couldn't figure out a way to give it a meaningful degree of psionic power. I guess I'll have to content myself with all the guns I stuck on the ship. And it has a _lot_ of guns. Enough that leveling a continent would be entirely possible. And that's without the on board nuclear missile silos. I decided to stick with my lasers for the primary armament, though I do have some mass drivers as well.

Oh, you want to know the really fun part? It is, just barely, capable of actually landing on an earth-sized planet. I still can't help finding that amusing.

Unfortunately I'll have to leave the data cubes behind. Volume-wise, they're each bigger than the Ma'at, even if the Ma'at is longer. Still, I won't be leaving everything behind. The Ma'at's central computer is plenty large enough for data storage and limited development. It's not really powerful enough for real-time unit development, but that's not really its job, now is it?

Well, time to start building the thing. I think I'll do the actual construction work out in the Kuiper Belt. No need to panic people.

I can't wait for my new ride to be finished.

* * *

So, I learned something today. My resource network does have a distance limit. Makes sense that it's not capable of going between star systems, but I was expecting to be able to cover the entire solar system. That's... well, not quite the case. The range is about twenty AU or so. That's just enough to get from Luna to Uranus on a good day, but no further. The Kuiper Belt, which I was planning to use to construct the Ma'at, starts about thirty AU out, around Neptune. Part of me insisted that Uranus was far enough out. I mean really. It's way the hell and gone in the outer system. Why would anyone on earth be concerned about it?

On the other hand, I wanted to build out in the Kuiper Belt, dammit, so I'm gonna build in the Kuiper Belt!

Some experimentation quickly found a work-around for this little conundrum, namely that I could daisy chain connections together. Ugh, the current planetary alignment is very much not helpful. If Earth is North of the sun on January 1st, which was coming rather soon, actually, Jupiter was to the west, Saturn sort of southish, and Uranus and Neptune to the east. Okay, I can make this work.

In theory, I could jump straight from Luna to Uranus, but that was stretching the connection to its limit, and Earth would soon move such that the connection would fail. So I put my first link in the asteroid belt. Nothing fancy, just a metal extractor on one of the larger asteroids, but it was enough. From there, I built a simple energy generator on the surface of Oberon, the second largest moon of Uranus, then hopped over to Neptune to construct a jig. A bit ramshackle as supply lines go, but good enough for government work. It wasn't like it had to last too terribly long.

From there, I started construction of the Ma'at some forty AU from the Sun. Soon, my pretties, soon! Hahahaha! Ah, that felt good.

In other news, I finally came to a decision regarding my old body's cannon. Simply put, I couldn't figure out how to mount it on my new body without serious issues. Instead, I mounted it on a modified Horus, creating a new unit, the Bennu ground assault craft. It wasn't much good in a dog fight, but against large ships, such as the Omega, or ground targets, it was very powerful. My first bomber. Sweet!

While I'm making new units, I suppose I really should get a move on designing heavier ground units. My current ground units, the Crusaders and Incarnations, were extremely good at urban combat and fighting on board ships, but in an open field they'd struggle. The SHIV designs I'd been provided with weren't bad, but they were a bit small. Still, that's fixable.

I briefly considered the Alloy SHIV, but the Hover SHIV... Hmm. If I adapted that tech... I always did like multi-role units. Tanks that could hover over water was a rather appealing concept. Right, hovertanks it is. I took the Hover SHIV's basic propulsion system and scaled it up. It took some tweaking to make it efficient at its new size, but nothing I couldn't handle. On that platform, I started building a proper tank. Turret, mount a pair of laser cannons in it, sloped armor for that nice deflecting touch, what am I missing? It's reasonably fast, self-powering, has a decent punch, has an electromagnetic shield, though I'm not sure how much longer those are going to be useful for, and even has some decent armor, but there's still some space left over. What am I missing? Hmm. Oh! That's what I'm missing! Mine layers. The extra space gets turned into a small fab area for producing and deploying mines. Cool! Think I'll call it the Scarab Tank.

Hmm. Should I design a psionic version? That would be... tricky. I'd basically have to create the DNA, well, DNA analogue, for that from scratch. Not many literal living tanks out there in the universe, carbon based, silicon based, or other. Put that project on the back burner for later, I think.

Anything else?

No?

Great, so what am I supposed to do for the next two weeks or so the Ma'at needs to be completed? 

* * *

"I cannot believe you decided to do this," Bradford said. I'm not quite sure how to describe his tone, actually. Not quite disappointed, not quite offended, not quite resigned, and not quite disgusted.

"I can't believe you don't like _XCOM on Ice: The Musical_ ," I countered from a modified Thoth. "I slaved over the choreography of the performance for hours. Hours, I tell you, hours! The music took a full _three days_ to compose! Do you have any idea how much I could have gotten done in that amount of time? Any idea at all?"

"If you'd sat on your hands and done nothing, it would have been more productive," he said.

"Commander, your Central Officer clearly has no appreciation for art," I said.

"I already knew that," the Commander said. "That doesn't make him wrong however."

"Barbarians, all of you," I said, shaking my Incarnation's head. "So uncivilized."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**  
I am loving my new ship. The _Ma'at_ cuts smoothly through space, engines flaring with blue light. Right, time for a test run.

I integrate my body with the main control interface of the _Ma'at_. For anything else, I wouldn't bother, but for this ship, well, it's something special. The control interface is at its core a far more advanced version of the MEC control interfaces. When I sit in the command chair, when I link to the _Ma'at_ , I don't just control the ship, I _am_ the ship.

Oh, that's interesting. My weapons arrays just came online. Some of the internal stuff still needs work, and I really should wait for the storage banks to fill, but that's no reason not give what I do have a test run.

The Kuiper Belt is chock full of random junk, mostly balls of ice, dirt, and rock that I'm sure will someday receive little more than a numerical designation. They're not really even worth mining, they're so small and far out. On the other hand, they make for great target practice.

Beginning test sequence.

Start with the point defense emplacements. Given the short range of such weapons, I opted for electron cannons. There are thousands of those emplacements dotting the surface of the _Ma'at_ , and they're its primary defense against everything from missiles to fighters. The emplacements extend from their housings and open fire on the debris around me. Oh, that... Well, I'm not quite sure how to describe how that feels. Sort of a pins and needles feeling, but at the same time like goosebumps? Sort of? It's interesting.

Right, point defense test successful. Moving on to secondary batteries. The secondary batteries are designed for tackling smaller ships. Well, medium sized ships would be more accurate I suppose. They're a bit small to really be effective against an Omega or a Sigma, but they're a bit too big to be effective against an Avenger or a Horus. There's something of a mix of weapons here. The most common weapon is the laser cannon. Beam diameter is about ten centimeters, emitter and focusing chamber is about twelve meters long, effective range, well, depends on the target, but measured in tens of thousands of kilometers against most things. The _Ma'at_ mounts hundreds of the things. Joining them are a number of mass drivers, almost a hundred, and even a handful of plasma projectors for close in work. They extend from their housings. Oh, that's interesting. Firing now. Hmm. I can feel the slight shiver go down the _Ma'at_ as they fire. It tingles.

Right, successful test on the secondary batteries. Moving to long range bombardment arsenal. These weapons are concentrated at the front of the ship. Here I actually deviate from my usual preference for lasers, opting for mass drivers instead. The primary bombardment weapon fires a twenty five kilogram slug at, well, relative to the Ma'at, about .08 _c_. Little more than that, actually, as the kinetic energy from one of these suckers is right on two megatons. The _Ma'at_ mounts thirty of these things. And, for added fun, I can swap out the basic rounds for more advanced munitions. Still working out how to reliably generate and contain anti-matter, but the other specialized rounds are ready. Still, for this test, I really don't need specialized munitions. Locking on to one of the larger chunks of debris... firing. Not bad, not bad. Hmm. May need to disable tactile feedback. That felt sort of like a sneeze. Kind of distracting. Yeah, turning off feedback.

Activating missile bays. I decided I liked the missile design Data Cube Seven gave me, but for real space combat it needed a bit more oomph. I call my new, upsized missiles Nova Missiles. _They_ hit for, well, actually they have an entirely variable yield. The standard warhead detonates for about a hundred megatons, but I can dial that up as high as ten gigatons. Not sure why I'd need to hit something that hard, but it is an option I now have. Think I'm gonna hold off on actually testing these things though. Maybe when I'm not in an inhabited system that just got invaded by aliens.

And finally, the _Ma'at's_ main guns. Seven of them, one on each corner of the ship and one spinal mount, these monstrous lasers are, well, let's just say I have the specs for the annihilaser. They're not quite _that_ powerful, but they're pretty damn nasty all the same. Again, not testing these in an inhabited system that just got invaded. Still, everything looks good.

Shielding is... not as good as I'd like. I still haven't been able to get a gravity-based shield to work without ripping the ship apart. Well, that's not quite true. I haven't been able to get an omni-directional gravity shield of useful intensity working. I can get this sort of pathetic omni-directional shield that works fairly well against particulates, and I do have that on the _Ma'at_ to protect against space dust and the like, but against actual kinetic weaponry it's not terribly useful, and lasers barely notice it. I have been able to design a gravity projector that creates a flat plane of gravitational shear, which shreds kinetic projectiles and seriously warps lasers, but it's only a few dozen meters across, making it little more than glorified point defense. I still installed them on the _Ma'at_ , but I'm kind of disappointed I couldn't come up with anything better. The ship _does_ have a powerful EM shield, but... eh. Not really the most effective shield out there. In a pinch, I can pump plasma into the shield to create a barrier, but that has a number of issues with it. Namely that it doesn't really stop weapons powerful enough to get through the _Ma'at's_ armor, and it makes it rather difficult for my sensors to see anything outside the barrier. Of course it also impairs sensors from outside looking in, but it's a twenty kilometer wide ball of plasma. It's not exactly stealthy.

Test successful. Everything performing within expected parameters. Now, to test the FTL systems.

The _Ma'at_ does have an Alcubierre drive for in-system FTL. That's my first test, moving from the place it was built to orbit around Neptune. The ring of distorted spacetime forms and I set off, space flashing by. It's not bad as such things go, one AU every ten seconds or so. Pretty good for tooling around in-system. And there's Neptune, right on schedule. Excellent, test completed. I should be ready to leave the system within the hour.

Alright. Self-destruct on the turrets, the ships I won't be taking with me, the radar, the satellite I left in orbit, and the ground units I won't be taking with me. Hmm. Self-destruct the factories too, I think. Leave the data cubes though. Let the humans have fun with them. Though I do turn them off first. My mass and energy storage banks have filled. Self-destruct the advanced metal extractors and reactors, shut the basic versions down. Unit cannons get powered down... I guess that's it. I'm ready to leave.

Let's do this. Okay, first destination... eh, what the hell, Arcturus. Initiating Inversion Drive.

 _vwoop_ **vwoop** vwoopvwoop _vwoop_ **vwoop** vwoop!

Well, that's-

* * *

Shit! Fuck! Dicks! Gah!

 _Collision Detected.  
_  
No fucking shit! Damage report... great, main engines are out, gravity generator is just barely hanging in there, and that's a planet I'm falling towards. Well, shit. Secondary engines, align for unpowered atmospheric insertion, gravity generator give me everything you've got, I'd rather not accidentally this planet just yet... Okay, there's the atmosphere. This is gonna be dicey. The _Ma'at_ can land on planets, but it's not really meant to, and certainly not like this. Angle towards that flat-ish section... Brace for impact!

 **WHAM.**

Ow. Ow, my beautiful ship. And I just built this thing too. Damage report?

Okay, main engines are a bust. Gravity generator packed it in just before impact, that's a bust too. Inversion drive is junk thanks to the landing, Alcubierre drive died with the grav generator. Secondary engines and thrusters... Um, well, I've still got a few of them, but unless I get the main engines and the grav generator back online, they're not going to be useful for much. Main reactor bank... coming back online. Good, I have power. Construction facilities... mostly intact. They'll need some work before they're operational again, but nothing too extreme. Weapons arrays... ouch. I have some of my point defense arrays still active, and one of the secondary batteries, but that's fucking it. Good grief, what a clusterfuck. Okay, okay, storage bays intact. Unit cannons... mostly intact, but pointing into the ground right now, so they're not terribly useful. Sensors. Finally some good news, I have sensor data.

Well, that's not Arcturus. That is very distinctly not Arcturus. Arcturus is a K0 III Red Giant. That is an A8 V White Dwarf. Right, so where am I? Not in the Orion minor arm. Good to know. Alright, what's puttering around on this planet aside from a rather large amount of plant life and some avian analogues?

No.

No.

No.

Checking records, what did I hit?

A ship. Was that ship broadcasting any sort of signal? Yes. IFF transponder. Ship name: _Darwin_.

Oh, _shit_.

* * *

Okay, what do I know? I'm in the universe of Grey Goo, and apparently my arrival was the event that destroyed the Darwin. I never was clear on what exactly took it out in canon. Oops. Alright, fine, so I'm... I guess at the start of the Human section of the campaign? Okay, okay, the campaign from Grey Goo.

Also known as "Misunderstandings, the Clusterfuck". Really, the only reason the Beta are attacking the humans is because they think they're the Silent Ones, aka the Shroud. The only reason the humans are fighting anyone is because their ship was destroyed and they want to live. And the only reason the Goo is fighting anyone is because they want to prepare for the arrival of the Shroud and they never learned to use their words. If I remember correctly, the goo is deliberately luring the Shroud to this planet. Or was that something Singleton came up with after the goo absorbed him? Good question, not sure.

Right, so... the universe.

The Beta are a non-issue as far as I'm concerned. They're by far the least advanced group here, making up for it with the fact that their entire civilization is here. Well, what's left of it. I would like a look at their Aperture Device, as apparently the Inversion Drive can't be trusted and wormholes would be nice to have.

Speaking of the Inversion Drive, what the hell happened there? Nothing like this happened in any of the tests. Well, that's not quite true, I did test what happened if you fed more power into it than it actually needed, and the ship just vanished. I assumed I'd just given it some sort of negative space wedgie that left it... I dunno, non-existent? I wasn't getting any signals from it! Right, so if that actually happened to me... but I triple checked the power I was feeding to the drive! This shouldn't have happened. Except it did. Clearly I'm missing something. It's no Data Cube, but the _Ma'at's_ computer core survived the crash. Hopefully it'll be able to give me some answers on what the hell happened there.

Right, where was I? Oh yes, the Beta. Not terribly concerned about them. As, oh what was his name? Redgrave I think? Eh, it was Red-something. Anyways, as Red said, they still use bullets in their guns. Most of their tech trends towards big and bulky, with little thought for elegance. It's not steampunk exactly, more like... dieselpunk or something. Very industrial looking. Again, not terribly concerned.

Humans. Um. The _local_ humans, meaning Lucy Tak, Red-whatshisface, and I suppose Singleton... well, they're not much of a threat to me, but that's only because there's a whopping two humans and a sentient robot running around in glorified lifepods fighting with nothing but scientific equipment and weapons that are literally centuries old. And they're still a major faction. That's actually rather worrying. After all, in this universe, humans are the ancient elder hyper-advanced race that evolved beyond war, and you _really_ don't want to convince them to change their minds. If someone told me these humans were a century or two away from being the PA progenitors, I'd buy it. Their tech is _scary_. Point to point teleportation of goddamn _buildings_ , pad to point teleportation of units, energy absorption tech... yeah, they have stuff I want. And this is a scientific expedition, not a military force.

Oh, and then there's the fact that they essentially already built a Commander... _by accident._ That would be the eponymous Goo.

The Goo is pretty much what I'd expect a Commander to look like if you decided to go for a decentralized, gestalt design. It doesn't have aircraft, but it _does_ have FTL by way of tiny wormholes called keyholes. It's enormously flexible, able to take on new forms on the fly. I'm very much concerned about its ability to absorb artificial intelligences. I _think_ I'm more sophisticated than Singleton, but not that much more sophisticated, and even then, I'm not sure. Though if I remember the DLC mini-campaign correctly, he kind of took over the goo collective from within, so... Yeah, don't think I want to try that though. Think I'll let Singleton take that one. So, Goo. Not an _enormous_ threat, but I really don't want them getting close to me. They also don't really have anything I need. I might be able to get an upgrade or two for my fabber nanobots, but... Well, I'll consider it.

And finally, the Shroud. I have no idea what they are, what they want, when they'll arrive, or how many of them there will be. Their technology _looks_ organic in nature, but I honestly have no idea if that's actually the case. Their buildings have this weird habit of turning into completely unrelated things, and, well, that's about all I actually know about them. They're weird. And honestly, I'd rather not be here when they arrive. Their scout ships apparently have the ability to suck the life out of entire planets. How they do this, I haven't the slightest clue, but apparently it affects machines as well, so, again, don't want to be here.

Okay, what are my goals here?

First and foremost, repair the _Ma'at_. If I still had my moonbase I'd just build another, but without that kind of economy to support me, repair is the easier route.

Second, avoid conflict with the locals. I don't care about the Beta, I barely care about the humans, and I want nothing to do with the goo. I _really_ want nothing to do with the Shroud. If conflict is unavoidable, well, I want to win. Duh.

Third, acquire what tech I can. The Aperture Device, a teleporter pad, and maybe a tiny sample of the goo. If I'm feeling really ballsy, I would like to get a scan of an Alpha, but I'm a bit iffy on tangling with what's basically a Titan.

Fourth, get the hell out of here before the Shroud arrive. Not sure when that will be, but I'm betting on soon.

Fifth, if convenient, do something to short-circuit the clusterfuck of misunderstanding I'm about to be witness to. Not... _quite_ sure how to go about that. After all, the goo isn't smart enough to really negotiate with without Singleton. Might have to kidnap him and feed him to the goo, actually. Oh, so not looking forward to that.

Right. Repairing the _Ma'at_. Well, I should probably get started.

* * *

Well. I officially fucked up. Well and truly fucked up in a completely avoidable way that never should have happened.

Turns out? The Inversion Drive does in fact punch through to other universes if you give it enough juice. Given what's happened, that's not a surprise. What is a surprise is that I fucked up the math for how much energy I actually needed. It's not a big fuck up, numerically speaking. Hell, the error amounts to a mere sixty three _trillionths_ of a percent. TRILLIONTHS! But that was just enough to push me over the edge from jumping to Arcturus to jumping to another universe.

As for the source of the error, well, I clearly did not do sufficient testing. If I had, I would have realized that the mass of an object being jumped by the Inversion Drive actually _reduces_ the amount of energy required by a tiny bit. Still working on _why_ it does that, and of course volume affected still remains the primary determiner of the energy cost, but it does have an effect. On my smaller testbed ships, that effect fell well within the safety margins. On the _Ma'at_ , not so much.

As I said, completely avoidable. On the plus side, I now know how to travel to other universes. Which I'm sure will be very helpful with the _Ma'at_ in the state it's in. Ugh.

Right, any good news?

Well, the onboard factories in the Ma'at are working again. I've got drone fabber swarms out capping metal extraction points now, and more swarms working on further repairs to the ship. Priority is the engines, the weapons can wait.

Though there is something rather interesting I've discovered about this planet, namely the plant life. For some reason it naturally resists radar, and most other scanning techniques for that matter. I suppose that explains that weird brush mechanic in the game. I've had to resort to gravitational analysis just to keep watch on my immediate vicinity. Definitely going to want a proper analysis of the stuff, but for right now it might actually be worthwhile to just burn some of it back to give me a better view of my surroundings. Hmm, yeah, that's a good idea.

None of my Crusaders survived the landing. Eh, whatever, they're disposable. For the task at hand, the Vikings are my best options, and I set one of the factories to start producing them. In better news, a handful of my Incarnations _did_ survive, though right now I'm keeping them onboard the _Ma'at_ in case I need a mobile response force. The onboard aircraft also did not survive the crash, though I've already started building a mix of Horuses and Bennus to respond to anything that decides to bother me.

Okay, defense is... acceptable. I've got a few turrets up, but mostly I'm relying on what's left of the _Ma'at_ 's point defense. It should be able to handle any local threats. It's too much to hope that no one knows where I am, I crashed a fourteen and a half klick long ship into the planet. That tends to be _very_ noticeable. Still, as long as I don't bother anyone, I shouldn't be terribly high on anyone's priority list.

Now, how the heck am I going to get my hands on the local tech?

* * *

"New signs of intelligent life detected, origin unknown," M.U.M. announced.

Lucy Tak pursed her lips. "Any relation to what hit the _Darwin_?"

"Unknown."

Lucy closed her eyes briefly. She did not need this right now. The Darwin was destroyed by the impact of a massive ship, the sort of thing humanity built back in the Empty Wars, and now her surviving crew were scattered. She had a decent idea of where Valiant Singleton was, but this planet's native plant life was making localizing him extremely difficult. Worse, the aliens seemed to think she was some sort of threat, and were attacking relentlessly. She'd managed to survive so far by pulling up some _very_ old design schematics, which the _Darwin_ only had because of her own personal interest in the period humanity was still exploring, but it was taking time to get all of them online, especially with the damage M.U.M. had suffered.

"Unknown, alien?" Lucy asked.

"Unknown," M.U.M. said. "Unfamiliar technology observed. However, no associated life forms located."

"An AI?" Lucy asked.

"Unknown."

Lucy sighed. "You don't seem to know much at all of late. Alright, keep me posted if anything new turns up." 

* * *

Mosquitoes. Yes, mosquitoes. That's my solution for getting tech.

It's actually pretty simple. I can do organic manipulation just fine, and a controllable cyborg mosquito is hilariously simple to make. I decided to incorporate the anti-scanning traits of the local flora into the mosquito, which should prevent it from showing up as anything but a living bug on sensors.

However, the actual purpose of the mosquitoes is to deliver a small number of my nanobots to a location. Carrying the nanobots within their bodies, the mosquitoes will land on their targets and regurgitate their payload, then die. The mosquitoes are faster in the air than the nanobots, less likely to be noticed by sensors already calibrated to pick up the Goo, and only slightly more expensive to create. My first swarm has already departed for the Aperture Device. Go, fly my pretties! Hopefully they won't run into any issues.

Okay, tech acquisition in progress. Getting out of here before the Shroud arrive is dependent on the _Ma'at_ being repaired. I... do not have enough resources to effect the repairs necessary as is. Right, options.

Um. Wow. What the hell happened to this system? This is literally the only major celestial body that hasn't been strip mined. That moon appears to have had its core quite literally ripped out, that... _used_ to be a gas giant, and that... That was a planet until someone shattered it. Whaaaaat happened?

Oh. Humans. Must've been. Not like anyone else around here has the tech to do that sort of thing. Well, the Shroud might, but they're not here. Probably happened centuries ago, back when humans were still blowing each other up. Yeeaaaah, updating objective from "leaving before the Shroud get here" to "leaving before the Shroud get here or Earth just decides to lolnope the star system or some shit". Because seriously, what the fuck. Right. Okay. _Miiight_ have lowballed these guys a bit calling them Progenitors minus a few centuries. After all, that impression was based on a handful of marooned scientists in life rafts. If this sort of thing is typical of what humans did back when they still bothered doing things, well, they might actually be more dangerous than the Progenitors. And that is a very scary thought.

Okay, _fine_. I'm stuck with the resources of this planet. Fine. I'll make do. I've already got drone swarms out and about building metal extractors. I have power to spare right now, though I'll need to do some more work on the main power bank if I want to have enough juice to run the Inversion Drive. Um. Anything else. Oh, right, plot.

And that's a Stratus. And it's spotted my extractor. Oh, this could get stupid.

I really should get working on a translation program for the Beta. Quickly.


	7. Chapter 6

**Apologies for the delay, real life problems occurred. Have a chapter.**

 **Chapter 6**

Urgh. I am rapidly coming to hate this planet. NONE of my long range sensors work here. At least, not reliably. Oh, sure, I get brief glimpses of things as they move about, and bigger things tend to be easier to pick up, but it is entirely possible for a bunch of aliens with technology that wouldn't look out of place on earth back in the nineteen seventies to get within a few hundred meters of one of my structures without me even knowing. Which they keep demonstrating. On my metal extractors. Ugh.

Air patrols... mostly work, but I can't spare the kind of resources I'd need for a constant air patrol from the repairs to the _Ma'at_. And even then, the foliage around here is very good at blocking even that. There's a _reason_ I've burned back the jungle to full kilometer from the _Ma'at_. I'm not sure satellites would do any better. I'm currently trying to adapt sonar for above-water work, but that's taking time. Ugh. Just, ugh.

Good news, my nanobots have arrived at the Aperture Device. They're already fighting a nanobot swarm, so I really can't afford to be too terribly obvious about this. Instead, the nanobots are slowly infiltrating the computer systems. This should also get me the language data I need to create a translator program.

Now, if they would just _stop wrecking my freaking extractors_ , that would be _nice_. Ugh. That's the twelfth they've trashed so far. I don't want to kill them, but given the circumstances, I'm not sure there's any other way I could get them to stop. Ugh.

I also haven't had much luck getting a hold of human technology. Their buildings don't exactly stand up on their own. For that matter, their units don't either. No, everything of theirs is held together by these energy fields, and when the drone suffers too much damage to sustain the field, the pieces teleport back to their base for reclamation and repair. I once again revise my opinion of the Gooniverse humanity up another notch or three on my scale of "Holy fucking shit that's haxx". All the more reason to get my hands on their tech, but that energy field is not making things easy. It functions a lot like a bug zapper, killing my Tech Jacker mosquitoes the moment they land. _Fine_. I suppose I shouldn't have expected this to be easy. I could just send a regular nanobot swarm after them, but given the presence of the goo, that could easily go very poorly. I'll have to see if I can find an alternative solution, because this is getting rather frustrating.

And then there's the goo.

The. Fucking. Goo.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep track of the location of gestalt intelligence that likes to subdivide and spends most of its time in a not-quite liquid state in terrain like this when basically every one my sensors is on the blink? DO YOU? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA?

No. No you do not.

It's freaking impossible. The goo is everywhere and nowhere, eating my extractor one moment, then nowhere to be found the next.

I hate this planet. I absolutely hate it. I hate every single thing about it. It's not even a pretty planet. The jungles are the ugly, non-flowering kind, the flowers that DO exist are mostly just kind of bland or depressing, and what isn't jungle is wasteland. It's an ugly blight on the universe and if no one was currently using it I might very well blow it up just _because_ , I hate it that much.

I can't wait to get off this rock.

Alright, _fine_. It would seem I've reached the limits of what I can do by myself. Time to start talking to people. Yay.

* * *

"Incoming transmission," M.U.M. announced.

"Transmission?" Lucy asked, glancing up from her console. "From who?"

"Unknown," M.U.M. said. "Transmission does not follow any known protocol."

Lucy bit her lip. Redgrave was in the hands of the aliens, the Beta, and- And if there was a chance at a negotiated peace, perhaps- "Put it through."

"Affirmative."

"Hello, who is this?" Lucy asked.

"I am Phoenix," I said. "Am I speaking with the commanding officer of the ship that was in orbit?"

"Yes, I am Lucy Tak, the commander of the _Darwin_. Who are you?"

"I am the commander of the ship which impacted your own, the _Ma'at._ There was a malfunction in the FTL drive, resulting in our emergence in an unexpected location. The collision with your ship was an extraordinary stroke of poor luck."

"I see," Lucy said.

"Indeed. The _Ma'at_ has sustained severe damage. We are undergoing repairs at the moment, but I expect it will take some time."

"May I ask, how severe were your casualties?" Lucy asked.

"Depends what you consider casualties," I stated. "Nearly all independent platforms were destroyed, either by the impact with your ship, or the following collision with this planet."

"You're an AI, aren't you?" she asked. "You don't have any crew that can't survive their bodies being destroyed."

"That is something of an oversimplification, but essentially correct," I respond.

"You're not a Valiant," she said. "What are you?"

"Good question, but one that can wait for a later time," I said. "For right now, we have more pressing concerns."

She nodded. "One of my crew has been captured by, um, we call them the Beta-"

"They call themselves the Morra," I supplied.

"You've made contact with them!" she said. Right, definitely not underestimating her, she's frighteningly intelligent.

"Nnnnot exactly," I said. "I've... infiltrated one of their computer systems. I'm currently compiling a translation program for them, but I have not opened a dialogue with them. However, they're not what I was talking about."

"The goo," she said with a sigh.

"Good guess, but no," I said. "No, our biggest concern is what both the goo and the Morra are running from."

"Running from?" she asked. "What would the goo run from?"

"The Shroud," I said. "The Morra call them the Silent Ones. I know very little about them, but they are very dangerous, and they are coming here. I intend to be gone before they arrive if at all possible, but given the state of the _Ma'at_ , it is likely they will arrive before I can conclude repairs."

"And... what happens when they get here?" Lucy asked.

"If they aren't stopped? They eat the planet, then the solar system. Don't ask me _how_ , I don't understand the mechanics of it, but they are in essence a galactic swarm of locusts, consuming all before them."

"But they can be stopped?" Lucy asked.

"Mmmmaybe?" I offered. "It's... a possibility, but I don't have the data I'd need to give you anything like an estimate of your chances. Again, I plan to leave."

"Why?" Lucy asked.

"What do you mean, why? I have no interest in tangling with the Shroud."

"So you're just going to run?"

"That was the idea."

"And leave the Morra to their fate?"

I- that- you- not- gah! Okay, okay. "I... what do you want from me?" I ask. "I have no idea what we're up against. I have no idea how many of them there are. I have no idea what the limits of their capabilities are. I have no idea when they're getting here. I don't like not knowing."

"Neither do I," she said. "But if you just run, you'll never find out, will you?"

Oooh, you're good, lady. You're very good. "Alright, _fine_. I'll help you prepare for the Shroud. But I'm not fighting them myself. I get the mess you're in sorted out, then I leave. Got it?"

"Got it." Oh, I don't like the way she's smiling. I don't like that smile at all. "For now, you said that you're working on a translation suite for the Morra?"

"Yes, it should be ready within the hour."

"Good, then hopefully we can end this conflict without further loss of life."

* * *

She played me. She freaking played me! Forget worrying about human technology, now I'm worried about _her_. No. Whatever she says, I am not sticking around to fight the Shroud. I'm not!

...I just jinxed myself, didn't I?

* * *

Okay, translation matrix ready... now. It's not perfect, no translation system of radically different languages ever is, but it should get the job done. Send that off to Lucy and Singleton, let them handle the negotiations. Not like I need to be involved in that.

On the other hand, _something_ needs to be done about the goo. I really don't think I'll be able to talk Lucy into feeding Singleton to the goo, even if Singleton might actually be okay with it once I explain the situation. I need an alternative solution.

Oh. That... that might just be crazy enough to work. It just might.

* * *

"You require the design for a Valiant AI," Singleton says. It's not exactly a _question_ , more of a demand coupled with a statement.

"Yes," I say. "Look... is Lucy there?"

"She is currently negotiating the release of John Redgrave, and is unavailable," Singleton says.

"Okay, good. Look, the goo is out of control." Good, let's start by restating the obvious. "It's trying to prepare for the Shroud, but it's not particularly good at planning. It doesn't really grasp consequences and secondary effects. That's why it's been fighting you and the Morra. It's trying to expand, to grow, to gain the ability to fight back. But at the same time, it has no concept of alliances, or cooperation."

"You wish to make the goo more intelligent," Singleton says.

"Essentially, yes," I say. "I need something that it will assimilate, but won't be able to destroy, that will be able to give the collective purpose and direction. Your AI is my leading candidate for this. Literally feeding you to the goo so you can take charge of it is my final backup plan. I'd really like to avoid that. Lucy would yell at me."

"I see," Singleton says. "I assume you would prefer that Lucy does not hear of this."

"That would be preferable, yes," I say. "I have an alternative, but I need a copy of the design for your AI core. The part that makes you... you."

"And you intend to use this to subvert the goo."

"Subvert isn't really the right word, but basically yes."

"And how would you do this?" Singleton asks.

"I'd rather not explain just yet, in case it fails," I say.

"Very well," Singleton says. "I am sending you the data you require. I hope you do not give me cause to regret this."

"You and me both."

* * *

And yet another Gooniverse humanity tech achievement. Singleton is a fully functional sapient sentient AI. In every respect, he's a person. His entire AI fits on device twelve nanometers across. That's about six orders of magnitude smaller than a grain of sand. I'm going to have to study this, see if I can use the technology behind it to upgrade my own processing centers, because that is _terrifying_. I'm honestly concerned about my ability to manufacture it, it's that small. Oh, I can _do_ it, but it's going to be a pain.

Oh, nice! Singleton gave me some information on how to program one of these things! Excellent. Right. Now for the crazy part.

Oh, this idea isn't getting any less ridiculous. Not even slightly.

Fuck it, let's do this.

* * *

Good, the Morra are withdrawing. My metal extractors are being left in peace, aside from the occasional incursion from the goo, but I have no real compunctions about bombing the goo whenever it shows itself, so that's under control again. I... should probably call Lucy, actually.

Yeah, I should do that now.

* * *

"Phoenix," Lucy says as soon as M.U.M. lets my call through.

"Miss Tak," I say. "Were you able to negotiate a settlement with the Morra?"

"Yes," she says. "Singleton tells me you are working on a solution for the goo?"

"A potential solution," I say. "I'm... cautiously optimistic about its chances of success, but, well, it's a bit of a strange idea to be honest. And no, I really don't feel like explaining it just yet. If it works, I get to look brilliant. If it fails, well, I suppose you can chew me out for being an idiot."

"We're rather short of conventional solutions right now," she says. "Keep me posted on the results, please."

"I'll do that," I say. "What is the current status of your relations with the Morra?"

"We have a truce, and working towards an alliance against the Silent Ones. They confirmed what you said, though your claim that the Shroud will be here soon has them worried. One of their leaders, Saruk, wants to speak with you."

"I suppose that's acceptable," I say. "If you could put him through, that would be good."

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

"Is this Saruk?" I ask, testing out my translator program.

"I am Saruk, affirmative," the voice at the other end of the connection says. Hmm. Looks like I need to work out a few kinks in the program.

"I am Phoenix," I say.

"Lucy spoke of you," Saruk says. "She said that you warned her of the coming of the Silent Ones."

"I did," I say. "I do not know when they will arrive, but it is likely to be soon."

"Our ship is not ready to leave the planet," Saruk says. "If they arrive soon, my people will not survive."

Oooh, Lucy put him up to this, didn't she? "I am aware," I say. "However, I am in the same position. My ship is severely damaged as well."

"It seems we are all in this position," Saruk says. "Our _Suma_ , Lucy's _Darwin_ , and your _Ma'at_." I'm impressed, he didn't even stumble over the foreign words.

"All of us but the goo," I say.

"The Humans and the Morra will stand against the Silent Ones," Saruk says. "What of you?"

"It's not my fight," I say. "I intend to leave."

"The Silent Ones threaten the entire galaxy," Saruk says. "It is everyone's fight." No it's _not_ , but I don't feel like spilling the beans about my universe hopping just yet, particularly since I don't currently have a working Inversion Drive.

"That's your opinion," I say. "I'm still planning to leave. Look, was there something you actually wanted, or is this just a social call?"

There's a moment of silence. "I am requesting your aid against the Silent Ones," he says. "They destroyed our home. We are all that remains of our civilization. I will not stand by and let my people be silenced again. Will you help us?"

Urgh. Gah. I- Gah! Lucy, if this was actually your idea... Ugh, _fine_. "You make a compelling case," I say. "Very well, I will provide what assistance I may."

"The Morra thank you, Phoenix." The connection closes.

Thank me if any of this works. This is still just a collection of bad ideas.

* * *

The Ethereals had a lot of interesting information squirreled away in their databases. I wasn't able to get most of it before the Temple Ship blew, but I still got quite a bit. One of the more useful things I found was information on human psionics, including scans of human brains, both conventional scans and psionic ones.

I was rather surprised to find that the Ethereals had psionic scans of just about every member of XCOM. I still have that file. I used a lot of the data from it for some minor upgrades to the Incarnations. However, there was a separate file, one with a much higher priority level. Naturally, I took it as well.

The file contained the scan of one human mind. One very particular human mind. One very powerful human mind.

Oh this isn't becoming any less of a bad idea.

Fine. Let's do this.

Awaken, Alice Linnet Frost, Commander of XCOM, Queen of the Goo.

* * *

"Commander Kappa," the copy of Commander Frost says. "I take it our assault on the Temple Ship did not go as planned."

I blink. "Why would you assume that?"

"I am not in my own body," she, it, says. "The most likely scenario for this situation is that the assault on the Temple Ship somehow concluded with my death, and most likely the destruction of Earth, and this is a program of yours to try to resurrect the human race."

"I'm... not sure I would have been capable of that, actually," I say. "Anyways, that's not the current situation. The assault on the Temple Ship was a success. There were casualties, but we were victorious. To the best of my knowledge, you, the original you, are still alive."

There's a moment of silence as she processes this. "What am I at present?"

"Ah, at present? You're a virtual model of your own brain being run on the computer of my ship."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I... have a job or maybe a favor, whichever you prefer, that I believe is right up your alley."

"And you created a virtual clone of me for this task."

"It was either that or create an entirely new personality from scratch. This seemed like a less terrible idea."

"What is this task?" she asks.

"Um, well, let me fill you in on the current situation first, then we can discuss what I'd like you to do."

"I am listening."

* * *

"So. The humans are adept, but few in number," she says.

"Correct."

"The Morra number in the thousands, but are technologically outmatched."

"Yes."

"The Von Neuman probe is numerous and technologically capable, but lacks intelligence and proper leadership."

"Pretty much."

"And the Shroud, an alien force of unknown size, capacity, and intelligence is coming."

"Yes."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to take over the goo," I say. "I was able to persuade Valiant Singleton to give me the design for a Valiant AI core. I would load your personality onto this device, then insert you into the goo, at which point you should be capable of taking it over from within. I hope."

"Why did you choose to recreate me? By your own admission, you could have created any number of humans," she says. "I expect that there are a great many in your databanks who would be more biddable than myself."

"Maybe, but if we're going to stop the Shroud, I need competence more than I need obedience," I say. "I don't have anyone in my database who's a better fit for the task at hand. Will you do it?"

"This Shroud threatens Earth as well?"

"Nnnot immediately, but they kind of threaten the entire galaxy, so... yes?"

"Then I am willing."

"Excellent. I'll start work on the project immediately."

I disconnect from the _Ma'at's_ computer with a sigh of relief. That could have gone much worse.

* * *

Manufacturing the Valiant Core is... not something I can do with my usual techniques. It's way too small. However, by reprogramming one of my fabbers, it should be able to produce a Valiant Core, rather than its usual construction nanobots. It's just going to take a while, thanks to the complexity. Really want to get my hands on more Gooniverse human tech.

Right, while that's in the oven, I need to get to work. I'm now committed to fighting the Shroud. Wunderbar. Right, what do I remember about the Shroud?

Um. Their anti-air game is a bit weak, if I remember correctly. Most of it involved bringing the air unit down to the ground so other units can actually destroy it. Air in Grey Goo tends to be expensive and time consuming. For me, it's very much not. Um. Hmm. Radar and other long range detection is out thanks to this freaking planet, and I really doubt a satellite would do much better, but perhaps... Hmm. I know the Shroud _have_ ships, but I have no idea what their orbital combat capability is like. Well, it's not like anyone else has significant space-borne firepower available to them at the moment either. Alright, plan of action.

Repairs to the _Ma'at_ are being pushed down the priority list. I need the resources to build defenses.

I start by throwing out an orbital launcher. I need to get back into space. From there I launch on orbital fabber, then construct an orbital factory. Alright, time to get to work. A mix of Bennus for ground assault and any capital ships that might appear, and a horde of Horuses for dealing with their aircraft and smaller ships.

I'm not sure how the Shroud's crashdown trick works, but it affects both human and Morra craft, so it's likely that it can affect mine as well.

I intend to make it regret this fact.

I'm calling this new variant of the Horus the Horus-Omega. Unlike previous versions, it is visually distinct from the Avenger from which it was derived. On each wing and on the back of the main fuselage, there are pods. These pods are connected to deadman switches. If the switch triggers, either because the craft is destroyed or because I choose to trigger it, the pods explode. For now I'm going with some relatively tame conventional explosives, but I have a number of more interesting payloads in the works. So yes, Shroud, yank my fighters from the sky, swarm them with your troops, I dare you.

That should at least give me something to work with when the Shroud come calling.

* * *

"Singleton."

"Yes, Lucy?"

"Do you think we can trust Phoenix?" the woman asked, gazing out into the distance.

"I am uncertain," Singleton said. "Thus far, he has not lied to us."

"That's not what I meant." Lucy shook her head. "We're preparing for a war, against a foe we know virtually nothing about. Do you believe he will stand by his agreement with Saruk?"

"I don't know," Singleton said. "It is my great hope that he does."

"And why is that?" Lucy asked.

"Because, without his help, I am not certain we can win."

* * *

"Ready?" I ask.

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"You have asked me this question six times now," Commander Frost says from her new Valiant-pattern AI core. "My answer has not changed. Perhaps I should be asking if you are certain that you are ready instead."

"I'm not certain of anything," I say. "Against the Ethereals, if everything went wrong, well, I still had the firepower to wipe them out. Maybe not cleanly, but successfully. The Goo is very much my equal in terms of potential, and it was forced to retreat from the Shroud. If this doesn't work-"

"Then it does not work and you try again," Commander Frost says. "You are concerned over nothing. I am ready. You are ready. There is no reason to delay any further."

"Right, alright. Launching in T minus five... four... three... two... one... Launching."

On the upper hull of the _Ma'at_ a section of the armor retracts, revealing a missile launch tube. Normally the tube would be used to launch one of the Nova Missiles that serve as the ship's strategic ordinance. What's being launched now is much smaller, only about fifty centimeters long by about five centimeters across. Size isn't everything though, and if all goes as planned, this missile will be the single most powerful weapon I have launched to date.

The missile accelerates upwards before turning east and jetting through the atmosphere. It doesn't have far to go. And when it lands, well, that's when things get interesting. 

* * *

"Your attempt to... tame... the goo is in place?" Lucy asks.

"Yes," I say. "With luck, it will be successful and we can present a united front to the Shroud."

"Yet you refuse to tell us what this plan of yours actually is," Saruk says. "Alliances are built on trust."

"Okay, it sounds bad when you put it that way," I say. "Initially I didn't share my plan because I knew one or both of you would call it stupid. Because it kind of is, or at least crazy. Then I didn't share it because I had no idea if it would work and I saw no point in getting your hopes up. Now... I _think_ it's going to work, but I really want to see the look on your faces when it does work."

We're in Lucy's lifepod-cum-command center. Lucy and Saruk are here physically, while I'm attending as a hologram. It took me a while to decide what I actually wanted my hologram to be. The obvious choice was my old body, but... eh. I've never really been terribly invested in my own appearance. Also, it would be boring. Instead I started with an Incarnation, resulting in a mostly featureless metallic humanoid about on par with Saruk for height. From there I added a small pair of wings to the back and a sort of subdued crest thing that went from the center of the forehead down to the base of the neck. I also went with a reddish-orange color scheme. My name is Phoenix. Might as well look the part.

"You're keeping us in the dark for your own amusement," Lucy says.

"Ssssort of? Again, it sounds bad when you put it like that, but there's honestly nothing to be gained by telling you. There's nothing you can do to affect the outcome. At this point there's nothing _I_ can do to affect the outcome." I spread my arms wide. "So why not enjoy the suspense with me? We should know very shortly if I was successful or not. If I was, we all get a pleasant surprise. If I wasn't, we can start discussing alternative solutions."

"And if your plan fails in a way that leaves us worse than we started?" Saruk asks.

"I'm... not sure how it _could_ ," I say. "That's not to say it's _impossible_ , but I'm having a hard time thinking of a way it could backfire like that. Either way, we'll find out-"

The lights go dead, Lucy's holographic command table going out. My hologram is still active, but every other piece of light generating technology just went offline. Then another hologram flickers into existence. It starts as a sort of sickly-looking orangey-yellow blob, but a second later it turns a sort of bluish white before expanding into a human shape.

Commander Frost. Huh. That's not her XCOM uniform. It's... I think that's French? I'm not sure. I never was much for modern military trivia, and the nature of her hologram is making the details a bit hard to make out. Eh, whatever.

I turn to look at her hologram body. "I take it there were no problems?"

"I had to do some convincing first," she says. "However, that has been resolved. I am now in sole control of the Von Neuman probe, colloquially known as the Goo."

"Excellent." I turn back to Lucy and Saruk. Oh, there it is! Those expressions are _amazing_. So worth it. Saving that image right now. "Lucy Tak, Saruk, this is Commander Alice Linnet Frost. For reasons I will not go into here, I had a full scan of her brain, sufficient to the task of digitally simulating her consciousness. I proceeded to load this data into a Valiant-pattern AI core which Valiant Singleton graciously gave me the design for. I loaded Commander Frost into a specialized missile, equipped with systems to assist her in taking over the goo collective. Then I fired it at a nearby goo nest. My knowledge of events ends there, but from her presence, I can only assume that she met with success. Commander Frost?"

"Thank you," she says. "Phoenix, or as I know him, Commander Kappa, is correct. I have taken control of all goo forces on this planet. As I understand it, this marks the conclusion of hostilities on this planet's surface."

"If you stop the goo's attacks on my people," Saruk says.

"Already done," Frost says. "My forces are withdrawing."

"Then I think it does," Lucy says. "So what happens now?"

"We plan for the arrival of the Shroud," I say. "There are preparations we must make. However, it would be best if we decide what those preparations should actually be. As such, I move that we begin discussing division of labor."

"What do you mean by that?" Lucy asks.

"Each of our forces excel at a particular set of things," I say. "Saruk. I intend to do my utmost to provide your people with improved versions of your current equipment. The fact that you were able to hold your own despite the technological gap is a credit to your species. Once your people have their new equipment, I would like your forces to fill the role of our fast response units. Your forces are designed to fight in rougher terrain than Lucy's while moving at speed. As such, your people will be our raiders and lightning strike elements."

"This is similar to our existing doctrine," Saruk says. "Mobile warfare."

"Exactly," I say. "Lucy, your forces will serve to defend our bases. To that end, I will be providing you with a number of ancillary power generators which you will be able to use to construct additional fortifications."

"And my army?" she asks.

"Is capable of rapid deployment to anywhere on the battlefield with your teleportation technology. As such, I want you to be our reserve."

"I can do that," she says with a nod.

"Good. Commander Frost-"

"I will take the front line," she says. "My infrastructure is entirely mobile, requiring no time for construction. I am the logical choice for assaulting hostile territory."

"And what about you?" Saruk asks. "What do you bring to this conflict?"

"Fire support," I say. "I will be controlling the skies and low orbit. I already have a number of satellites in orbit with lasers suitable for tactical bombardment of hostile positions. I am also in the process of constructing a fleet of craft capable of combat in both space and atmosphere. With luck, the Shroud won't know what hit them."

"This sounds like a reasonable plan," Lucy says. "What's our first step?"

"Our first step is calling in the rest of the goo scattered across the galaxy," Frost says. "It's the fastest way to increase our available forces. For that, I will need access to the Aperture Device."

"That can be arranged," Saruk says.

"Meanwhile, I can start upgrading the Morra's equipment," I say. I look around. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get to work!"


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7  
**  
A week and a half.

That was how long it took for the Shroud's scout ship to arrive. The Herald of the Silence.

It wasn't exactly subtle about it. Radar hating planet or no, ripping open wormholes in a planet's atmosphere is going to get you noticed. The flights of Bennus I had in orbit nosed over, dropping towards the planet. Unfortunately none of my SSXs were nearby or I'd have pasted the ship as soon as it landed. The bombers were going to need a few minutes to get to their target. No sense micromanaging them. Instead I placed a call to the new command center.

* * *

The new command center was built to facilitate a proper war with coordinated command. At its core, it was Lucy's old lifepod, but the command center had expanded beyond that as the Morra added to it. Then I added to it. And _then_ Frost added to it, which surprised everyone, myself included. The end result was a fortified bunker, factory, airbase, command center, and shelter that the Morra civilians could retreat to should it prove necessary.

The outer defenses are a blending of Morra, human, and my technology. The Morra build some very sturdy walls. In fact, to my utter astonishment, they're actually comparable to progenitor alloys for durability. I have _no_ idea how they developed that degree of metallurgical expertise with their tech base. However, their walls are somewhat mediocre without mounted soldiers. Meanwhile the human sentinels are devastatingly powerful turret emplacements, but are crippled by their dependency on the power grid. I don't use a physical power grid. The end result was a wall that was entirely capable of slaughtering anything that came too close.

Then Frost added a minefield.

Okay, it's not exactly a minefield. It's not even the goo dwellers, which I would have anticipated. No, Frost is innovating. Also, she's clearly familiar with punji sticks. The "mines" are more like remote triggered syringes. Buried in the ground, she can direct them to stab upwards, injecting goo directly into a target. We tested, and they can punch straight through a human Gladius tank's armor and rip it apart from the inside in a matter of seconds. And they're reusable, which is absolutely horrifying.

Nothing less than completely overwhelming force is going to take out this base. Unfortunately, the Shroud may just have that kind of force.

My hologram coalesces in the control room. Lucy's already here. I think she actually lives here full time. Frost's avatar is coming into existence as well, and... there's Saruk. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but he's become the de facto military leader of the Morra. I do know he was recently promoted, so good for him.

"They're here," Frost announces without any preamble.

Lucy purses her lips nervously. "I know we were preparing for them, but... a part of me hoped they weren't real."

"They are real," Saruk says, staring at the holographic table where it displays the Herald. "These are the Silent Ones. I recognize the ship from the stories."

"Good," I say. "I'd hate to waste this much effort on a fake."

"What is it doing?" Lucy asked. "It looks like it's... sucking something out of the planet."

"They drain the energy from worlds to prepare them for the full invasion," Saruk says. "We must act quickly. What do we have in the area?"

"My forces are already on site," Frost says. "I am currently preparing for a full assault upon the craft."

"My forces are also en route," I comment. "Unfortunately none of my satellites are in the area, but my bomber squadrons are moving on it. Commander Frost, I will inform you when my forces enter range to support you."

"Of course," she says. "This is their vanguard. We should give them a proper welcome."

* * *

The Herald is doing its thing. Whatever its thing actually _is_.

Here's the issue. Energy is not a _thing_. It is a _quality_ of a thing. So draining energy is... not really a meaningful phrase without additional context. So clearly the Herald isn't doing that. The question becomes, what _is_ it doing?

The Bennus are on their way of course, but the closest asset I actually had to the area was a Hermes. Radar sucks on this planet, but optical sensors still work, so I have dozens of Hermes probes running around to let me keep an eye on things. The nearest moves in to take a look at what's going on.

It's not... hard to figure it out, exactly, but I spend a good thirty seconds just looking at the data in disbelief as I once again revise the threat level of this _fucking universe_ up another few notches. The Herald is converting energy on the planet into dark energy. Because why the hell not? Thermal energy, kinetic energy, electrical energy, chemical energy, everything converted to dark energy. I honestly have no idea what that's likely to do to my units, but I doubt it's anything good. Seriously, what the fuck? And the Herald itself... it's weird. My sensors keep insisting that it's dark matter. It's clearly _not_ , I can see it after all, but my sensors are quite certain that it is.

What the fuck am I even looking at?

For now, a target. Looks like Commander Frost just wiped out the pillars powering its shield. Just in time for my Bennus.

The first twelve bomber flight dives in, uber cannons glowing with power. They reach firing range, then unleash their destructive payload. Blasts of destructive power rain down on the Herald as the first wave peels out, dodging gravity eddies thrown out by the Shroud craft. The second flight comes in, continuing the bombardment. Then the third. Then the first comes back around for another pass. And then the Herald explodes.

Take that, omnicidal scum.

The full invasion will be here soon. We need to prepare.

* * *

Oh, dear.

That's a looooot of ships.

That's a bloody awful lot of ships.

Two days after the destruction of the Herald, the main Shroud armada arrived. The sky tore open as _thousands_ of Shroud Entities drop from wormholes, plunging towards the ground. Those fill the same role as human cores or Morra Headquarters. They're each a base. Well, shit.

And then the second wave arrives.

In high orbit, wormholes tear open, disgorging thousands... tens of thousands... hundreds of thousands... a literal _million_ ships. Most of them are fairly small, but there are ships there that are comparable in size to the _Ma'at_. Ohhhh, sugar. Oh, this is bad. This is very bad.

Oh this is not looking good. Um. Right. Right. Should... probably try to do something about this. Um. Okay.

And here I had thought ten thousand Horuses and a matching number of Bennus would be sufficient. So much for that idea. At a guess, I'd say we're about to lose control of the planet's orbit. You know, just a guess, not certain. Might as well get some use out of my space force before it gets blown up.

There's a quintet of those massive ships near my staging area, with a cloud of escorts surrounding them. Let's do this. My Horuses lead the charge, lasers blasting at the smaller craft as the battle swiftly deteriorates into a massive furball. My Bennus slice through the engagement, driving hard for the Shroud capital ships. I'm not sure I have the firepower here to take them out, but I'm sure as hell going to try.

Dozens of my bombers are swept away by point defenses. Fortunately the escorts are tied up with the Horuses- oh, that fight's not going well for either side- so the overwhelming majority of my bombers get through. A long range engagement with these things is a _bad_ idea. Better to get in too close for them to effectively fight back. Skin-dancing. Risky, but better than the alternative. My bombers skim along the surface of the massive battleships, mere meters from the hull, firing as they go. Rents open up in the hulls of the ship. Atmosphere vents through the holes... looks like pure nitrogen. Weird. My bombers keep swarming around and over the ships, taking out gun emplacements, blasting what I _think_ are engines, and just generally leaving the ship a mess.

A pure nitrogen atmosphere... well, that kind of sucks, actually. That's going to stifle secondary explosions quite effectively, though it does still convey shockwaves... I'm not sure I can actually _destroy_ these things without... wait. Wait. Sensors keep insisting that the hulls are made of dark matter. Oh, this is a bad idea.

Most of my Horuses are dead, but the escorts have been wiped out and the capital ships are toothless at this point. Another squad is heading this way though, so I'm short on time. Most of my Bennus nose over and dive for the shelter of the planet's atmosphere, escorted by my severely depleted force of Horuses. Twenty five Bennus stay behind.

One of the fundamental truths of space combat is this: If your drive is powerful enough to get you anywhere in a reasonable time frame, it's powerful enough to make an effective weapon. Warp drives cheat a little in that they're not really _powerful_ exactly, but they do rather interesting things to local spacetime. Specifically, they create a ring around the generating craft where gravitational shears on par with that of a black hole is the norm.

My Bennus have warp drive.

Five Bennus ram each of the crippled ships at full warp.

To my surprise, the first Bennu to hit each ship doesn't do the job. In fact, they explode. However, they did have some impact. My sensors aren't reading dark matter anymore. It's certainly _exotic_ matter, and it's going to take me a while to figure out what it actually is, but it's not dark matter.

The follow up Bennus do much better. The warp rings tear the ships apart, scattering pieces across space. Not bad.

One squadron down. Nine hundred and ninety nine to go. And it only cost me about nine thousand and change Horuses and about two and a half thousand Bennus.

Great.

* * *

Down on the ground, things are going... better, I guess? About five thousand Entities have landed. Between the Morra's fast-moving forces, upgraded with Progenitor tech, Lucy's drones, teleported into the battle zone, and Frost's forces, scattered across the planet, we've managed to blitz about six hundred of them, which is honestly better than I was expecting. My SSXs are also going to work in the limited time I have before they're destroyed. Lasers plunge down from on high, scouring away dozens of the Entities.

But now the Shroud are organizing, building defenses, and creating armies. My SSXs are being blotted from the sky. We've bled them, hurt them badly, but we need to pull back before we over extend. We are badly outnumbered here. We need to fight intelligently.

My bombers drop through the atmosphere, blasting a few Shroud bases on their way through. I'll be sending a few hundred along with the surviving Horuses to the central command, but the rest... Well, time to keep things going. Seven thousand Bennus spread out across the planet, shattering Shroud bases as they go. I'm taking losses, but if I can deny them the planet...

I'm down to a few hundred surviving Bennus. They're down to about fifty bases, but the ones they have... well, they're making up for the poor quality of their air defenses with quantity.

My hologram forms in the command center. Lucy, Saruk, and Frost are all here, looking extremely tense. No surprise there. "I'm launching strategic ordinance," I announce.

"Strategic ordinance?" Lucy asks.

"Nukes," Frost says. "Objective?"

"Deny them the surface."

"Confirmed," Frost says. "Take them out."

* * *

I have a rather limited supply of Nova Missiles, and right now I just don't have the resources to make more. That said, I have enough for this. Calculating blast yields, placement, and... firing. Three Nova Missiles launch from the _Ma'at_ , cutting through the sky. I don't dare send them on orbital ballistic paths with the enemy controlling space. Still, this should work.

The missiles are faster and higher than any of my aircraft, and thus outside the ability of the Shroud's defenses to handle. The missiles drop in very precisely chosen locations, then detonate. One has a blast yield of about six hundred and fifty megatons. The next is smaller at a measly four hundred megatons. The last is the big one. I don't dial it all the way up, there's no reason to, but it's not too far from it at seven point six gigatons. The Shroud ground bases are wiped from existence as I convert the ground they were upon to a crater.

Suck on _that_ , Shroud.

Of course there's still almost a million ships left in orbit. This could take a while.

* * *

"Look on the bright side, we haven't lost yet," I say.

"It's been seventy two hours," Frost says. "That's not much to be proud of."

Since my use of the Nova missiles to eliminate the last of the Shroud's initial wave of Entities, we've fallen into a stalemate. Thanks to liberal use of Umbrellas, we've been able to prevent the Shroud fleet from coming close enough to bombard our positions. The Shroud learned that one the hard way. Another thousand of their ships, including three more of their capital ships, lie broken into pieces in low orbit. Unfortunately there are plenty of areas I _wasn't_ able to secure. So far the Shroud have managed, by expedient of heavy orbital bombardment, to land a dozen Entities which we haven't been able to clear out. They've been sending waves of troops at us, but so far we've been able to push them back without issue. We're at a stalemate. Unless something changes, this fight could drag on for quite a while.

"Entity attempting to land in sector two seven nine," Lucy announces. She's starting to wear down. I can see shadows under her eyes from long nights and stress. Saruk's not much better.

"Do we have anything in the area?" Frost asks.

"A dagger," Lucy says. "Teleporting in units now."

"They'll have to be fast," I say. "That's at the very edge of my coverage."

"Confirmed," Lucy says. "Prioritizing Lancers."

Good choice, but still at the level of pissing on fires. We need a solution.

By now I have access to everyone's technology. The Beta's tech is nothing terribly interesting, though the fact that it actually works at all is somewhat impressive. The Goo is... a project for later. I have a sample, but I don't expect anything truly game changing out of it, so it's on the backburner. Right now I'm combing through the data I was able to get from M.U.M., looking for something, anything, that will let us turn the tide. It's not looking good.

Oh sure, I now have the humans' teleportation system, the ability to generate solid energy barriers, and a number of other fascinating technologies, but I don't have anything like the time I'd need to actually utilize those technologies. Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place.

The Shroud are... weird. When they're active, they register as dark matter. When they're killed they stop registering as dark matter, instead showing up as various other forms of exotic matter, primarily charmed matter, most of which breaks down in short order. I'm missing something. I'm missing a lot of something. I don't like it. They make no sense. No sense at all.

I need more data.

I need a _test subject_.

* * *

Capturing a Shroud unit. Frost is easy to convince. She knows the value of living test subjects after all. To my surprise, Saruk is also easy to convince. He wants the Shroud wiped out, he's not terribly fussed on the how. Lucy is the holdout. I'm not quite sure _why_ though. I don't think she is either.

"I don't like this," she says.

"I recognize your dislike of this prospect, but I _need_ more data," I say. "As it stands, we have no idea what they actually _are_. This is impairing our ability to devise effective countermeasures."

"How do you intend to capture one of the Silent Ones?" Saruk asks.

"Right now a gravity trap looks like the best option," I say. "I'm hoping for a siren. That should minimize the risk involved."

"I concur," Frost says. "Miss Tak, unless you have any further objections, this seems to be our best option."

Lucy frowns. "I still don't like it. But if the rest of you don't think we have a better choice..."

"If there was, I'd have taken it," I say. "This is our best option."

"Then I suppose we should do it quickly," Lucy says.

* * *

The gravity trap doesn't work. Or rather, it doesn't work at _capturing_ a Shroud.

Everything went precisely according to plan. The design was simple, easy to produce, and easy to deploy. Buried like mines, we scattered dozens in the path of a small Shroud squad. They wandered across the traps, blissfully unaware. Then I triggered the traps. Gravity intensified, pulling on the Shroud.

Then they died. The Shroud just keeled over, dead.

What the hell?

* * *

"So what did we learn from this?" Lucy asks.

"The Shroud don't like other people messing with gravity," I say. This actually matches up with what happened when my Bennus rammed the capital ships. We know that the switch from dark matter to charmed matter occurs when they die, and I know that hitting them with a warp ring, which is just gravitational distortions, caused the switch to occur. What we don't know is _why_.

"It seems that we've found a vulnerability," Saruk says. "How difficult would it be to create a weapon based on this?"

"Um... not _too_ hard," I say. "Still... I just wish I knew what was causing this."

"This reminds me of XCOM," Frost says. "We have Bradford," she gestures at Lucy, "Shen," Saruk, "and Vahlen." She nods at me.

"I like to think I'm less prone to fits of mad science than Vahlen," I say. Lucy and Saruk, not having the context for the conversation, share a shrug. "I still want a live Shroud to study though. There's something going on here, and I want to find out what."

"The gravity traps proved lethal," Frost says. "Electrical shock?"

"Not without data on their nervous systems," I say. "So far we have nothing on their biology. Assuming they even have biology."

"Do we have any other non-lethal takedowns?" Lucy asks.

Oh... I know where this is going. Oh, I was hoping to keep this in reserve.

"Theoretically, yes," I say. "I have... a possibility. However, I have a limited number of these units, and I haven't been able to get production for them online yet. It... might work."

"Whatever it is, we're running out of other options," Saruk says.

"Alright, fine, I'll see about deploying them soon."

* * *

I have eighteen functioning Incarnations. Mostly Sekhmets, but a handful of other versions. Unfortunately, the Incarnation gestation pods were utterly trashed during my arrival, and they haven't been a priority for repairs. Even if they were fixed _right now_ , I wouldn't have any new Incarnations for at least a week. For now, eighteen is all I have.

I sincerely hope that's enough.

* * *

It's official. I am _sick_ of the Shroud. _Nothing_ I use against them works as expected. Out of idle curiosity and for completion's sake, I decided to try an electric stun trap on the Shroud before breaking out the psionics.

 _Nada_.

If they're living creatures, they don't use electrical nerve impulses. They barely noticed the shock traps. Fucking Shroud. Then I tried an ambush with my Incarnations. Do you want to guess how psionics affected them? Go ahead, guess.

If you guessed "it washed off them like they weren't even there", you'd be right. Because clearly we can't have nice things. Psionics, my biggest hole card, rendered... well, not useless. By no means useless. They're essentially robots from the perspective of psionics. Things like Psionic Lance and Rift tear them up like nobody's business. Mind Control and the like though? Nothing.

Seriously, what the hell are these things?

* * *

"Another failure," Saruk says as my Incarnations fall back in the face of a much larger Shroud force. "Have we exhausted our options for a live capture?"

"All of our options?" I ask. "No. All of our _practical_ options? Probably. I just wish I knew what the hell these things _are_."

"Does that require a live capture?" Lucy asks. She's not getting nearly enough sleep. Five days in and she looks like death warmed over.

"Well I need to study it," I say.

"But do you need to capture it to do that?" she asks. "Couldn't you just-" she cuts off with a yawn, "just y'know, bring the sensors to them instead?"

"I don't-" Actually. I think I _could_. Maybe. Or rather, _I_ couldn't, but... "Frost. Could you-?"

Her hologram shimmers slightly. "I believe so. It wouldn't give us nearly the resolution a proper destructive analysis would provide, but we aren't looking for a full understanding of them, just a working theory of how they function. I'll see what I can come up with."

And that is how the Sliver Grass that still lives on Ecosystem Nine came to be.

* * *

The Shroud lost a lot of troops to Frost's tank-killer punji sticks before they wised up. Since then they've gotten _very_ good at detecting buried concentrations of her goo. So that was out. They've also lost a lot of troops to bombing runs from my forces. As a result they've started using more aircraft of their own, mostly Machs and Shrieks. They tried Torrents, but they quickly figured out that those things are just Horus-bait. Anyways, air delivery is out.

So Frost and I got creative.

The end result was a sort of grass that, when trod upon, ejects a woody spike into whatever steps on it. Not enough to do more than scratch a Shroud unit, but that's all it needs. Those spikes are laced with tiny quantities of modified goo nanobots. Rather than being able to self-replicate, these nanobots have the most advanced sensor system we could cram into a nanobot. It's short ranged, but since it'll be inside its target...

To my... not surprise, exactly, but certainly displeasure, Frost's computational resources significantly outstrip my own. As a result, she took the lead on the Sliver Grass development. I took over actually growing the stuff though. It only took us two days to get an acre or so worth of the stuff ready for deployment. It took even less time to deploy it and acquire the data we needed.

And. Well. I can safely say I understand _why_ the Shroud are the way they are now. I haven't the foggiest idea of how they came to be, but I know _what_ they are.

* * *

Lucy has been busy giving us all the evil eye. Me especially, but no one is exempt from her wrath. Probably because I conspired with Redgrave and Singleton to swap her coffee with decaf laced with a mild sleep aid. She was out like a light in minutes, and didn't wake up for a solid twenty one hours. On the plus side, she's looking much better now!

"So. What have we learned this time?" she asks. Saruk is out right now, and Frost's attention is elsewhere, so it's just me and Lucy right now.

"The Shroud are... weird," I say.

"We knew that already," Lucy says. "What did we _learn_?"

"Right, okay, simplest terms," I say. "You know how the human body functions almost entirely on the electromagnetic force? The body uses it for everything. Brain activity, nerve impulses, muscle control, various chemical reactions. The human body is even held together by it, and the same holds true for the Morra."

"But it doesn't for the Shroud," Lucy says.

"No, it doesn't," I say. "They use the gravitational force instead. Through unknown means, they use dark matter to enhance the efficiency of their bodies while also stabilizing the charmed matter that makes up their actual bodies. They use gravity for everything, up to and including their brains. Those gravity traps we deployed? To the Shroud, getting hit with one of those is like a human getting electrocuted."

"I see," Lucy says. "So what does that leave us with?"

"As of right now?" I ask. "Not a whole lot more than we had when they first arrived. But we know more about them now. And with luck, we should be able to come up with something that will let us turn the tide."

"Alert," M.U.M. announces. "Numerous objects designated as 'Entities' detected in upper atmosphere."

"The war never stops, does it?" Lucy asks, turning to her control console.

"This one sure doesn't," I reply.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

So. Gravity guns.

I do not have gravity guns.

Why would I? They're not terribly efficient for actually killing a target, the infrastructure necessary is irritatingly complex, and they just generally don't make terribly good weapons. I have gravity _bombs_ , but that's a different animal altogether, and even against the Shroud, the increase in efficiency as compared to simple fragmentation or incendiary munitions is fairly minimal.

Oh sure, I've got plenty of gravity manipulation technology, but most of it isn't designed to be used as a weapon. And yes, I know, the Kzinti Lesson is still in effect here, but there comes a point where you need something that was actually designed to be a weapon, not an also-can. Once again, my long R&D cycle is biting me hard. I haven't had the time to build a data cube, or even something comparable, so designing a gravity gun within a reasonable time frame is not a feasible option. We need something else, something that will win us this war before the Shroud come up with something we can't stop.

Oh. Oh that's an idea. Oh that's a bad idea. That's a hilariously bad idea.

Let's do it.

* * *

"This plan is insane. YOU are insane." Frost... not says exactly, direct communication between two machine intelligences isn't really speech, but I lack a better word for it.

"Hardly," I reply. "Unorthodox, certainly. Eccentric, perhaps. But I assure you, I am by no means insane, and neither is this plan."

"You want to relocate an entire planet. And you claim that you aren't insane. Fine. What do we need for this plan of yours to work?"

* * *

Yes, that's my solution to this mess. You see, I managed to refine the math for the Inversion Drive, and I stumbled upon an interesting fact. While the volume-based energy requirement goes up in direct proportion to the increase in volume, the mass-based reduction goes up at an exponent. Said exponent isn't very big, just slightly more than one, but it has... _interesting_ ramifications. In theory, a mass of Osmium the size of Luna would be able to use the Inversion Drive with an energy cost equivalent to a sixty watt light bulb. For a Ecosystem Zero Nine, well, the density isn't nearly that favorable, and I'll need more power than I can currently generate, but not an unreasonable amount.

FTL planets are entirely within my reach. _Universe hopping planets are within my reach_. I cannot get over the absurdity of that fact.

My plan is quite simple. The Morra don't really want to move. Ultimately, they just want to rebuild their civilization somewhere safe. The Humans want someone else to talk to, preferably someone who won't try to kill them. And everyone wants the Shroud dead.

So I'm going to move Ecosystem Zero Nine to share Earth's orbit. The gravitational distortions of the Inversion Drive should have the rather nice side effect of wiping out the Shroud as well, neatly solving all our problems in a single stroke.

Of course, it's not quite that simple. The Inversion Drive is a complicated beast, and scaling it up like this is going to be a challenge. On top of that, I need to expand my power generation capabilities. Assuming absolutely nothing goes wrong, it's going to take about three days to get everything running while maintaining the defenses.

Having said that, I can now guarantee that something will go horribly, horribly wrong.

* * *

"What... _is_ that?" Lucy asks, staring at the sensor feeds.

"I have no idea," I say. "It" is some sort of fog, or maybe smoke, that's started billowing out of the Shroud bases. It's a sort of purple-tinted black, and it's blocking pretty much all of my sensors. It's even futzing up my gravity sensors. The best I can get is some very fuzzy returns from sonar.

"The Silence," Saruk says. "It is the Silence. I thought it was a myth."

"Care to share with the rest of the class, Saruk?" I ask.

"The Silence," Saruk says. "It is the home of the Silent Ones. They create it, and it in turn creates them."

"Wait. You mean they're _terraforming_ this planet?" I ask.

"Yes."

Okay, what the fuck. What does a Shroud terraforming project even look like? This, apparently. It looks kind of like the Shadow planet killer cloud from Babylon 5. And ain't that a fun association. This is a problem. I have no idea how to destroy this, and if we can't figure it out, my ambitious plan is officially shot to hell. I am NOT taking this shit back to Earth.

"How much time do we have?" Frost asks.

"At the current rate of expansion..." Lucy checks her figures. "Our forces will be covered by the cloud in the next forty three hours. The entire planet will be covered within a week."

Well. Shit. As much as I hate this goddamn ball of dirt, I'm not quite ready to give up on it. I'm certainly not ready to give up on us. There has to be a solution.

* * *

You know how this universe keeps blindsiding me with its absurd technology and whatever it is the Shroud are using? I'm pretty sure we've reached the limit of that. Sweet spirits of steel and rust, I _hope_ we've reached the end of it, because I'm honestly not sure how things _could_ escalate further.

We gave up on trying to take out the Silence by main force after it ate one of my Nova Missiles going off at full power. No response. That was when Frost got the bright idea to capture a tiny fragment of it for analysis. That actually worked. Opening up a keyhole to the Silence from inside a very heavily shielded containment chamber, we able to get a few cubic nanometers of the stuff before it wiped out the keyhole. We've been studying it since, and after two and a half hours of exhaustive testing, we now know what it is.

A different set of physics.

No fucking shit, the Shroud are actively eating our reality and substituting their own. I can fight troops, buildings, ships, but this? What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

At least this answers how the Shroud eat entire stars.

* * *

"So. Anyone have any bright ideas?" I ask.

We are very much on the clock. Just over thirty hours remain before the Silence starts eating our positions. Five hours after that, our entire force will be destroyed. Assuming it's expanding downwards as well as out, the planet will likely break apart about ten hours after that. If it's not, we have about five and a half days until the planet is covered in the stuff.

"We know gravity weakens the Silence," Lucy offers.

"Not enough," Frost notes. "Given our capabilities, we would have to have acted within minutes of the initial release of the Silence for that to be a viable strategy."

"I've start constructing some implosion bombs to buy us some time should it come to it," I comment. "But that's not a solution."

"Phoenix, is there any chance your drive will be online before our destruction?" Saruk asks.

"No," I say. "The drive itself, yes, but not the power supply. Not for moving the entire planet. Even if it was, I would only use it as a very last resort. I have no idea what the Silence would do with it."

"Keyholes worked on it," Frost supplies.

"Keyholes are nanoscopic," Lucy counters.

"Not under the influence of the Aperture Device," I comment.

"The Aperture Device is not meant for long term use," Saruk says. "Even if it were, we do not have sufficient catalyst to fuel it."

There's a moment of silence.

"I can set up gravitational barriers," I supply. "They won't stop the Silence, but they will slow it."

"And buy us time to do what?" Saruk demands. "We are trapped on this planet. The Shroud fleet prevents escape into space, while the Silence grows to consume us all!"

"We'll think of something," Lucy says.

"We have thirty hours left," I comment. "Our most powerful weapons failed utterly against the Silence. I have _nothing_ that can hurt them!"

"Nothing?" Frost asks.

I turn to face her avatar, incredulous. "You _did_ see my super nuke completely _fail_ to hurt them at all, right?"

"I did," she says. "But that's not the limits of our abilities."

"If you have an idea, now is the time," Lucy says.

"We turn their own weapons against them," Frost says.

"We don't _understand_ their weapons," I say. "Now you're asking us to recreate them. In less than thirty hours. That's impossible."

"We know what they're made of though, correct?" Frost asks.

"Yes," Lucy says cautiously. "Where are you going with this?"

The holographic display flickers, then comes up with an image.

...I think Frost might be even crazier than me.

* * *

Antimatter. That's her play. But not just any antimatter, oh no, we're getting really fucking weird and making _charmed_ antimatter. To my utter astonishment, this is entirely within our ability to do. Hell, some of the surviving science equipment from the _Darwin_ can handle the job with ease.

We're going to hit the Silence with a gravity bomb, then fire a round of this stuff into the blast location.

Frost's theory, which we can in no way test, is that sharp gravity distortions alter the structure of spacetime sufficiently to... _reimpose_ our physics upon the affected area. I can't say with any certainty that she's _wrong_ , and it does fit the available data, but I also can't say she's right either. We do know that, underneath the physics fuckery, the Shroud are fundamentally composed of charmed matter. Her logical assumption is that the area within the Silence is as well. Again, I can't say that she's wrong, and it does fit the data, but... gah. Just... gah.

I hate this plan. I hate the fact that it's based on nothing but assumptions. I hate the fact that we have no idea if the Silence will even notice it. I hate the fact that we have nothing better available and nothing to lose by trying it. And part of me hates that it's not my idea, but that part of me is even dumber than this plan is.

I am severely regretting not bailing when I had the chance. I just had to let my conscience overrule my better judgement, didn't I? Because right now, if this plan doesn't work? We're all dead.

* * *

We're ready. And that terrifies me.

My knowledge of charmed matter is incomplete to say the least. Even the Progenitors didn't do much with the stuff, it's that strange. Okay, no, it's not strange, it's charmed. Different quark involved. Not the point though. This stuff is _weird_ , and I do not know much about how it behaves. I know even less about anti-charmed matter. And I know virtually nothing about what happens when the two meet. The Gooniverse humans know more, but even they aren't experts on the subject.

We don't understand what we're about to do when it happens under our rules of physics, and now we're going to try it in a different set of physics. This is a bad idea even by my standards.

Unfortunately we are now twenty three hours away from the Silence starting to eat our forces. We're rather short on options.

I don't want to die here. I don't want to die at all. I had a few close calls back in my old human life, but never this desperate struggle against the inevitable. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

* * *

"Implosion bomb away," I announce as the gravitational ordinance in question releases the magnetic clamps holding it to one of my Bennus. It plummets towards the growing darkness, energy building up within it. There's a moment of silence, then the bomb detonates. There's a tiny explosion as the energy vaporizes the majority of the bomb in the split second before the gravitational field establishes itself.

Then the implosion begins. The ground is torn up, debris flies towards the epicenter, and the inky blackness of the Silence ripples and shimmers.

"Firing specialized munition," Saruk announces from the _Saghrai,_ the Hand of Ruk chosen to deploy the charmed anti-matter shell. The shell launches from the Hand's main cannon, soaring through the air until it reaches the Silence.

The shell enters without so much as a ripple.

Then the Silence convulses.

"Analysis!" Frost barks out.

"Damage to Silence is significant," Lucy says, her fingers flying across her console. "Estimate that an area of approximately one point six cubic kilometers has been cleared of the Silence. The Silence has halted its expansion... no, wait, expansion is resuming, but at a reduced pace. Priority appears to be repairing the damage we inflicted..." She looks up. "It worked!"

"Indeed," Frost says, sighing with relief.

I'm going to have to be That Guy, aren't I? Yes, yes I am. Fuuuuuuck. "It worked, but not well enough," I say. "It took us seven hours to get this together. Once we streamline the process, it should only take three. The Silence will have regenerated the damage we just did in... twenty six minutes and change. We've found a new way to stall them, but that's it."

"Ah," Lucy says. She frowns. "There has to be something. Something we haven't tried yet. Anything!"

Frost is clearly out of ideas. Her last hurrah is now our only effective weapon, but it's not enough. They're changing the very laws of physics. How do we fight that? How does anyone fight that? How do you fight an enemy who clearly isn't playing by the same rules you are?

Well, that's quite simple. You cheat. Now, if only I can figure out a way to cheat.

* * *

I have my drone fabbers working on constructing gravity generators to reinforce our front lines. That should buy us a bit more time. We're hitting them as often as we can with gravity surges followed by charmed anti-matter, that should buy us some more time. Revised estimates for our annihilation stand at eighty seven hours for first contact, with total annihilation occurring in ninety eight.

Okay, I need to think. Right now there's nothing going on that needs my conscious attention, so I shut out the outside world, retreating into my processor.

What do I know?

Based on what we've seen I have concluded that our physics are inimical to the Shroud. To survive, they carry their own physics with them. These physics can be disrupted when sufficiently energetic gravitational shears alter the shape of spacetime such that our physics are reimposed on their bodies. This is the real reason gravity kills them, not my previous gravitational nerves theory. The Silence is just the area affected by their physics. I need to force our physics back into that section of space.

So. What worked against the Silence? Gravity worked well, but we've tried that. Most forms of energy transference worked, but that was against physical objects, which the Silence isn't. Psionics worked.

Wait.

Psionics worked.

Psionics utterly _wrecked_ the Shroud, tearing them to pieces in an instant.

I might have a way out of this nightmare after all.

* * *

In the depths of the _Ma'at's_ broken hull, a figure stirs. It rises from its throne, then steps forward. Debris is pushed aside by the figure, discarded as unworthy of its notice. The figure pushes its way out towards the outer hull of the wounded ship before emerging into the light. A purple glow wreathes the figure as it finally stands erect, eight meters tall. Small orbs detach from the back as it drops to the ground.

For the first time since Europa, I truly stand alone.

* * *

Psionics are a strange thing. From my initial analysis, I assumed they were some sort of quantum phenomenon, forced into organization sufficient to create macro-scale effects. I was wrong. Oh sure, that's one of the things they do, but that's not what they actually are. When I arrived in the Grey Goo universe I had a number of working theories, of which I deemed the theory stating it to be the fifth fundamental force to be the most likely.

Once again, I was wrong.

Psionics aren't a fundamental force. It would be more accurate to say they are _the_ fundamental force. Or rather, one expression of it.

My first clue for this was that the Inversion Drive, which uses some principles of psionic energy to function, can cross from universe to universe. The confirmation occurred when I figured out what the Silence is and how Psionics interact with it.

Psionics are the... stuff... between universes. It's not energy, not exactly, but it's closer to energy than matter, so I'm calling it energy. Anyways, the energy psionics use is drawn from that space. And it's some truly weird stuff. No wonder I wasn't able to properly pin down the mechanics of Rift, there are no consistent mechanics to pin down in the first place. The energy doesn't obey physics. Physics obeys it. The energy is what keeps different universes, different sets of physical laws, contained and separate. If it had consistent rules I'd probably say it was actually two separate forces, filling the role of the strong and weak nuclear forces, just with universes instead of subatomic particles. Psionics aren't actually that energy, but they do draw upon it.

Which finally lets me understand how the hell Rift actually works well enough to use it.

It will be my tool of choice for wiping out this invasion. Like a surgeon cutting out an infection, or burning down a stand of trees infected with parasites. I am The Phoenix, and my fires shall cleanse the world of these abominations.

* * *

"Phoenix." Lucy's voice. She sounds... not irritated exactly, but something similar. "What are you doing?"

"If I'm right, ending this," I say as I march through our defensive lines.

"You go silent for twelve hours, then this thing marches out," she says. "What is it, and why didn't you tell us you had it?"

"I don't _have_ this unit," I say. "I _am_ this unit. I do apologize for the silence. I was thinking."

"For twelve hours?" Lucy asks.

"Not exactly. I finished my initial thought process in about twelve minutes. The remainder of the time was devoted to applying new information to a number of formerly theoretical physics questions. Which are... Tangentially relevant to the current situation. Nothing happened while I was out, right?"

"Nothing unexpected."

"Good. If you'll excuse me then, I need to tear the Silence a new one."

* * *

The Thoth version of my Incarnations could throw down with an Ethereal with roughly twenty percent odds of victory. They've recieved a number of incremental upgrades since then, and I'd give the most recent version even odds against an Ethereal.

My body has never taken the field before. All I can say is, if the Uber Ethereal had this kind of power at its disposal, it was holding back when we fought.

I reach the edge of the Silence before cutting loose with my powers. Beams of psionic power lance from my hands, burning through the black cloud before me. Explosions of psionic power eat into the front of the affected area, leaving scraps of exotic matter in their wake as this universe heals the rifts torn in reality. There's a moment of resistance followed by an explosion as my powers tear apart something on the other side of the boundary. The Silence starts collapsing before me, falling back under my assault.

Yes, this is how this should be. I am The Phoenix. I am The Cleansing Flame. The Shroud and their Silence do not belong in this world, in MY world, and I shall cast them out!

Shroud units emerge from the Silence to challenge me. They are naught but wheat before the scythe, insects before the storm, and they die at every step. I am invinc- oh. Oh that's a lot of Machs. That's far too many Machs and-

A brief flash obscures my sensors. When they clear I'm surrounded by Longbow anti-air drones. Lucy. Well played, woman.

"I think you've made your point," Lucy's voice comes on over my communicator. "It's time to withdraw."

Ah, yes, she has a point. Definitely has a point. I fade back as more units teleport in to destroy the Shroud counter attack. Still, I'd say that worked well. We finally have a fighting chance against the Shroud!

* * *

I did not realize it was possible to put a brutally efficient self-replicating mechanism of war in time out. Between the three of them, however, Frost, Saruk, and Lucy somehow managed just that. But not before Frost gave me a truly spectacular chewing out, one that I admit that I probably deserved.

Right now they're discussing the implications of my discovery regarding the interactions of psionics and the Silence. The obvious response is that we've found the solution to our problem. However, I only have a handful of Incarnations left, and while I have the production facilities online again, the next batch is still a week away from completion.

For now, we're stuck figuring out how to use eighteen Incarnations to delay long enough for reinforcements to be completed. For that, we're adopting a guerrilla warfare strategy. As of now, the Incarnations are irreplaceable war assets, and as such they need to be able to move to and from the front line as fast as possible. While the three people who are actually soldiers figure out how best to conduct our assault, I have been tasked with designing a suitable transport.

* * *

For whatever reason, none of the local groups use much in the way of aerial transportation. The only group on planet that does is the Shroud, which isn't much help. None of my existing designs are suitable for this task either, as most of my aircraft are repurposed spacecraft, and not nearly as effective as I'd like while also being far too big and expensive for my currently limited resources. I don't have time to design something from scratch however, so I'm stuck with reworking something I already have, and even there, the fewer modifications the better.

I settled on simple, taking the Skyranger design that I'd scanned on a whim a while back. Do the usual Progenitor-tech upgrade song and dance, and it suddenly had a theoretical cruising speed of Mach thirty seven or so. Incidentally, escape velocity of Ecosystem 09 was Mach thirty two. Not that the upgraded Skyranger could actually reach space, it needed atmosphere for the engines to function, but...

Yeah. Cool as that was, there is such a thing as going too fast. The Skyranger wasn't a cargo plane, but an express delivery aircraft, and as a result was basically a bunch of engines and their fuel tanks with a cockpit and troop bay bolted on as an afterthought. I didn't need that. In all honesty, I couldn't even _use_ that on a planet this size. Redesigning the engine system would take too long, so I decided to resolve the problem the simple and mildly stupid way. The result was... well, ungainly-looking doesn't really cover it.

Imagine a triple-decker bus. Now imagine two of those stacked on top of each other. Now imagine some idiot decided to attach a plane to the top of the resulting abomination of a machine. Now make it _fat_. It's hideous, it's an offence to good engineering practices, and I'm embarrassed to be associated with it. It's also capable of transporting over a hundred of my Crusaders or Incarnations at Mach twelve in atmosphere.

I hate myself so much for building this fucking thing. I hate myself even more for building eighteen of the damn things. Most of all, I hate the fact that they _work_.

What are they called? Fuck no, I am not naming these abortions of logic and design. In fact I am deleting this goddamn design from my systems as soon as I have a suitable replacement. You know what? They're called the Derps. That is what I am officially designating these fucking things. Derps one through eighteen.

Gah. I feel like I need a shower after designing that fucking thing.

* * *

"This is... anticlimactic," I comment.

"Successful military operations typically are," Frost responds. "We were able to field a weapon they could not counter."

She's right, but... still...

The last week was little more than a sort of inverted game of whack-a-mole. One where we were the moles, and we refused to be whacked. As much as I hate the things, the Derps are remarkably effective at their job. Blitzing to the edge of the Silence, they would deploy their cargo of a hundred or so Crusaders and one Incarnation. The Incarnation would go to work on the Silence while the Crusaders set up a defensive perimeter. Eventually the Shroud would muster the forces necessary to overwhelm the group, at which point the Incarnation would get back on the Derp and leave, leaving the singularly expendable Crusaders to inflict severe damage before going down.

This constant harassment across numerous fronts kept the Silence from expanding, and even let us force it back a little using our previous techniques. I did lose a few Incarnations, four to be precise. Two fell after a Shroud force managed to slip past our defenses and take out a battery of my Umbrellas, leaving the Incarnations vulnerable to orbital bombardment. The other two died when the Shroud quite literally dropped suicide ships nearly half a kilometer in length on them. The first time they did it, we all just stared in disbelief. The second time Frost actually started laughing. Kamikaze is no less of a desperation tactic when the Shroud does it than it was in the Pacific in 1944.

And like that, the first wave of Thoths emerge from the gestation tanks and start marching out to reclaim the planet. The Silence is being pushed back, and even with orbital bombardment, the Shroud just aren't capable of holding back the tide.

The planetary scale Inversion Drive will be charged in the next six minutes. Then, well, I decided to let Saruk have the honor of pressing the button that will end this. Ecosystem 09 will be transported to Sol, where it will share Earth's orbit. The Shroud fleet should die from the secondary effects. And that's it. All of our struggle, all of the hardship we went through, every desperate moment, and in the end it's just... nothing. This isn't a war anymore. This is pest control.

"You are not a soldier," Frost comments. "It shows. Your grasp of tactics is weak, your grasp of strategy is not much better. Fortunately for you, you do seem to have a fair understanding of logistics. You are not a soldier," she says. "You are not a captain, or a commander. You are not a general. You are a quartermaster, and perhaps a commander-in-chief. But you are not suited to the battlefield. You are very fortunate this did not cost you your life."

"Thank you," I say. "That makes me feel so much better."

"It shouldn't," Frost says. "If you intend to continue involving yourself in other people's wars, you will need to improve."

Mmm. I decide to ignore her in favor of double checking the Inversion Drive one last time. I am getting this _right_ this time, damn it!

The countdown I've been displaying ticks over.

5...

4...

3...

2...

1.

Saruk presses The Button.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Miss Tak, is there a reason you are flitting about the outside of my ship?" I ask through one of my dispatched construction drones.

"I'm looking for the door so I can knock," Lucy says, shifting her balance on her... I guess the only appropriate name for the thing is hoverboard.

"There are precisely two doors on the _Ma'at_ suitable for human entrance," I say. "Both are currently underground and inaccessible."

"Ah," she says, setting down on the top of the _Ma'at_. "You're leaving."

"I said I would," I reply. "No offence, but your universe scares my lug nuts off. I want out."

"Right," she says with a sigh, dropping into a cross-legged sitting position.

* * *

It's been almost a month since the Relocation of Ecosystem 09, and a lot has happened. To start with, relocating a planet is a tricky business. I managed to miss my target point by about six thousand kilometers. Not enough to be a serious issue, but enough that fixing it was probably a good idea. A handful of Halleys made short work of that issue. The second major issue being that Ecosystem 09's moon got left behind. The humans solved this one by taking Pluto and Charon and dropping them into orbit around Ecosystem 09 while a more permanent solution was found.

Speaking of the humans, they are losing their minds right now. The sudden arrival of an extra planet startled them to say the least. Discovering that they were not nearly as alone as they thought shocked them to their core. The celebration is _still_ going as they welcome the Morra to Sol. However, under the surface, something much darker is moving. The humans know about the Shroud. And, as humans have always done, they're responding to the threat with violence. Ships have been broken out of mothballs, dispatched to bring the great foundries of Bernard's Star and Wolf 359 back online. Think tanks are analyzing the data we brought back, developing weapons uniquely suited to defeating the Shroud. Yeah, I really don't want to be here when they kick off a galactic war.

Speaking of warriors, Frost and her swarm have entered negotiations with humanity. From the looks of it, a lot of the programming restrictions the goo was operating under are going to be removed, at which point she will head out and start destroying the Shroud. As a thank you gift of sorts, I took the time to design something I'm calling the Psionic Pulse Pillar for her use. It does exactly what it says on the tin, generating a pulse of psionic energy that shatters the Silence across an entire star system. Of course it burns out after one use and they take an irritatingly long time to make, but the PPP is the ultimate weapon against the Shroud.

The Morra are somewhat stunned by the reception they've received. They've scrapped their plans to complete the _Suma_ , instead starting work on the reconstruction of their civilization. Guarded and aided by humanity, they should recover from the devastation of the Shroud. A cultural exchange program has been put in place, along with a technological uplift of sorts. A handful of Morra have requested that they be allowed to join the extermination of the Shroud. I have no idea how those requests will pan out, but I can understand the impulse behind it.

And, in all that time, I have repaired the _Ma'at._ She will be ready to return to space within the hour. It's time for me to leave.

* * *

"I'm curious," Lucy says. "Why didn't you ask for Earth's technical data?"

"Because they would most likely have attached conditions to it," I say. "Most notably an obligation to assist in the war with the Shroud. No thank you. I want nothing to do with that, and besides, I already have the data from the Darwin. That's _more_ than enough to keep me busy for a while. No, right now I just want out." I changed the subject. "Why are you here?"

Lucy frowns for a moment before speaking. "I want to go with you."

*Scrrrrrratch!*

"You want to _what?_ " I ask, sure I've just suffered an audio glitch.

"I want to go with you," Lucy says again. Not a glitch then.

"Why?" I ask.

"I'm a scientist," Lucy says. "I want to be an explorer. If I stay, they'll make me a general instead. If I travel with you, I will get to see new things, things that I won't have to kill. You think you're the only one who doesn't want to be part of a war?"

Huh. Put like that, I really don't have a response. "You do know the _Ma'at_ is not equipped for habitation by organic life, right?" I ask.

"I suspected," she says. "Worse comes to worst, I can just attach one of our nexuses to the outside of your hull and live there."

"No, no, that won't be necessary," I say with a sigh. I suppose it wouldn't be too difficult to re-purpose one of my metal storage units into a habitation module. "Going by my track record so far, there's every chance you'll end up involved in another war anyways if you tag along with me."

"I'm aware," Lucy says. "Frost said you could use a strategist anyways."

I- Oooh, that sneaky little- "Fine," I sigh again. "How soon can you be packed?"

"Six hours," Lucy says.

"Fine, you can come," I say. "Just... Just get your things."

"Thanks, Phoenix," Lucy says, jumping back on her hoverboard thing.

Oh, this is almost certainly a mistake, but... oh, what the hell. Why not. Why the fuck not.

* * *

Lucy is now ensconced in the new habitation module, near the center of the _Ma'at_. Time to leave this universe behind. The _Ma'at's_ engines hum to life. The ground creaks and groans as my ship pulls itself loose of the dirt and takes to the sky. I cut through the atmosphere of Ecosystem 09. The Morra will probably rename the planet soon. After all, it is their home now.

The _Ma'at_ clears the atmosphere, slicing into space. Minimum safe distance achieved.

Incoming message. I accept it, and suddenly I'm looking at Saruk.

"Safe travels, Phoenix," he says. "My people owe you a debt we can never repay."

"Safe travels, Saruk," I reply. "And may your people thrive in the coming years."

Saruk nods. "Farewell."

I punch it, and universe falls away from me.

* * *

Good news, I'm not crashing into a planet this time. No, I've just landed in a giant cloud of _battery acid_ of all things. Tiny ships move through the cloud, travelling between tiny space stations.

Where the fuck am I?

* * *

I still have no idea where I am, which is something of a surprise. Even ignoring the part where I'm likely a fictional entity in a story being written by my old human self (I was already a sort of passive believer in the computer simulation theory of reality, so the idea of being fictional doesn't really bother me much), I did in fact recognize the last two universes. Landing in one I don't recognize is a surprise.

What I do know is that I am by far the biggest fish in this pond. The largest of the ships flitting about are only a hundred meters or so in length. The _Ma'at_ , at fourteen and a half kilometers in length, is more than a hundred times longer, and more than three million times as massive. No one has bothered me as I drift through this bizarre cloud, in much the same way as minnows don't bother blue whales. In light of the complete and utter lack of a credible threat, I decided to let Lucy handle snooping in on their communications rather than do it myself. It'll let her get a better grasp of what my systems are capable of.

Meanwhile, I have a _lot_ of technical data to sort through and refine into something useful.

* * *

As compared to the usual PA SI, I have a positively lethargic R&D cycle. To be honest, I'd say my version makes more sense. After all, arbitrary R&D rates require arbitrary processing power, and arbitrary processing power requires arbitrary energy and processing substrate. Condensed into a single pithy one-liner, the instantaneous R&D of most PA SIs requires omnipotence to actually make any sense. Most PA SIs aren't actually omnipotent, though they can do a good impression of it. Most. I'm looking at you, Drich. So clearly PA SIs aren't actually doing their own computations, and are instead subcontracting their processing cycles to some omnipotent extradimensional computer center or something. Once again, I blame Drich, and would like to lodge a formal complaint about my lack of access.

However, I did just get access to some _really_ sweet nano-computer tech. Building one of my Data Cubes isn't really a workable option in the current environment, and they were kind of underwhelming for the resource investiture of creating them. So, my first task is developing a new and improved R&D processor.

I start with the nano-scale Valiant AI core. I neither need nor want a personality for this task, but that's mostly a matter of software, not hardware, so that's a relatively easy fix. Add in the networking functionality from the goo, and I suddenly have the building blocks for my new supercomputer. As for the processing center itself, I went for simple. A fabber geared to produce my new Thinker cores that feeds into a cylindrical tank about one meter in diameter by one and a half meters in length. Total capacity is somewhere in the neighborhood of four septillion Thinker cores. Septillion as in four times ten raised to the twenty fourth power tiny supercomputers, each of which is as capable as Singleton, but without the wasted cycle time required to maintain a personality. I call the design the Think Tank. It's not arbitrary processing power, but it's a damn good shot at it.

The Think Tank isn't exactly expensive, and for what it's capable of it's dirt cheap, but I have plans that will require more resources in the future. Fortunately, the cloud is dense enough that I can just deploy jigs anywhere and they can start harvesting the stuff. You know, I think I'm starting to like this place.

* * *

I almost feel bad. I never really even used the _Ma'at_ , and I'm already upgrading to bigger and better. Ladies, gentlemen, and those who don't fit into such neatly defined little boxes, I give you, the _Ptah_ Modular Command Ship.

The _Ptah_ is, at it's core, a giant jack. As in those six pointed caltrop-looking things that you're supposed to use for a game that I never did learn the rules for. The _Ptah_ is essentially three giant central beams, each twenty kilometers long and half a kilometer wide by half a kilometer tall, that intersect at the center. These core beams are mostly armor, but at the center is the heart of the _Ptah_ , its fabrication chamber. A giant factory, this space produces modules, the smallest of which are cubes a hundred meters across. Once completed, these modules are teleported to an attachment point on the beams or on other modules by utilizing the technology the gooniverse humans use to teleport their buildings. New modules can be added at any time, damaged ones can be replaced or teleported back to the fabrication chamber for repairs, the entire ship can reconfigure itself in a matter of seconds, and the system can even deploy pre-built structures to locations outside of the ship.

Of course now I need to build the thing, which is going to take a while and a fair bit of effort, but I have the design down. On to the next project!

* * *

My current body is nice, but I want better. To start with, I want something rather simple. I want to be able to survive its destruction.

The first and most obvious step in this process is to remove the resource core and attach it to the _Ma'at._ Once the _Ptah_ is complete I'll move the core over there, but for now, the _Ma'at_ is the safest place I can put it. The second step is to place the vital pieces of me into a modified Valiant AI core. The new core, which I've decided to call a Commander Core, is much bigger, roughly twelve hundred nanometers in diameter instead of twelve. However, it can hold as much data as my old body could, and I've equipped it with a teleportation recall system. If the body takes too much damage, my core will be recalled to a set location automatically. Resurrective immortality is a hell of a thing.

For now, the current design works just fine, though I did make a few minor tweaks and improvements with the new materials and techniques I have access to. Eight meters of the best bio-mechanical materials I can develop, along with a potent psionic kick. Deployable construction drones stay, though I decided to add some deployable weapon drones to the mix to give my new body a bit more punch.

Not bad. Now-

"Phoenix," Lucy's voice cuts through my R&D fugue. "We have a visitor."

A visitor? I refocus my attention on the _Ma'at_ 's internal monitoring systems. A quick check of the clock tells me I've been out of it for about three days. And... visitor? I see... a person, wearing a crude space suit and carrying a pipe wrench.

What?

* * *

I'm... honestly not sure how to respond to this, actually. A ship that dwarfs anything you've ever seen a million times over just _appears_. The logical thing to do would be to leave that ship the fuck alone and hope it doesn't decide you look interesting.

I'm not sure if it takes a complete lack of a brain or singularities for balls to decide that the appropriate course of action in this case is to hop into a one-man pod, _ram yourself into one of giant gun ports,_ and then enter the ship by way of the hole you've just made, all while armed with nothing but a pipe wrench and what appears to be a concussive stun gun. In either case, I want to speak to this lunatic, if only so I know just how stupid a person can get.

I will be very disappointed if it turns out this person is drunk or otherwise intoxicated, because goddamn it, this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen.

Eh, I don't want him dead. One Thoth should be more than enough to take one lunatic captive. For now, I need to fix the hole he put in my ship. And maybe analyze what's left of that pod, because ramming through Progenitor alloy is no mean feat.

* * *

What

No really, what the fuck just happened?

I sent out the Thoth to take the guy captive, but he decided to run. I shrugged, and sent a trio of Crusaders to help corner him. He ducked into one of my metal storage bays, now mostly empty as a result of some of my new projects. Finally cornered. I sent the mechs in to retrieve him. I suppose if I'd been a bit faster off the mark I could probably have saved the third Crusader, but I was a bit astounded at the sudden spacing of my mechs. Teleportation, but how... Ah, that box he's picking up right there. Some sort of teleportation trap. Clever. I would not have thought of using a teleportation pad in that manner. I still have the Thoth though, and that trick won't work twice. He draws the stun gun, but that won't-

Wait, he just teleported himself to right behind my Thoth, and-

OH WHAT THE FUCKING HORSE SHIT!

He just knocked my Thoth unconscious with a single shot from his gun. I didn't even know my Incarnations _could_ be knocked unconscious! How the fuck?

"That doesn't seem to have worked," Lucy says. I can _hear_ the grin in her voice.

"No really, you don't say?" I snark back. Right. Okay, his shot knocked out the organic parts of the Incarnation, and the feedback knocked out the mechanical parts too. Right. Crusaders it is. I dispatch a group of five Crusaders to capture this guy. And this time I am not getting spaced!

* * *

What. The. Fuck.

I sent five Crusaders to capture this guy. I now have five Crusaders that are lying motionless, their processing systems giving me more errors than data. What the hell did he do to them? No really, what the hell? That shouldn't be even remotely possible!

Fuck it, deploying the fucking tanks!

I've only deployed the Scarab hovertank a few times against the Shroud. It did okay in the field, though not spectacularly. The minelaying function was fun. For one guy... eh, overkill, yes, but dammit, this is getting stupid. Send a handful of Crusaders and Incarnations with the Scarab, and this time I should see results.

* * *

"Phoenix?" Lucy asks. "What just happened?"

I have no idea what just happened. One moment, I have a squad that should be overkill in the nth degree. The next, my Incarnations are being gunned down by the Crusaders and the Scarab. I'm querying the onboard AIs for the units, but I've been locked out. That shouldn't be possible. Oh sure, I can hack my way back in, that should only take a minute or two, but this shouldn't be possible in the first place. What the hell is going on here?

Right, sending troops to capture him isn't working. Fuck it, the _Ma'at_ is _my_ ship. This is my castle, jackass, and you are not beating me in my own house. Let's see you handle five g's.

Well fuck, he's handling that just fine. Some sort of time distortion from the look of it. What the fuck is this place?

Okay, um... Right, he's heading... that way. Okay, I have a fabber swarm nearby, it should only take a moment to build some arc thrower-esque traps. Let's see him handle that.

* * *

Fucking bubble shield. He has a fucking bubble shield. The electricity didn't even touch him. Who the hell am I dealing with, fucking space Batman? This is _stupid_. Right, _fine_. I slam every blast door in the ship closed. Every single one. I know he can teleport, but this should at least slow him down a bit while I figure out something that actually will stop him.

He hasn't escaped the corridor I locked him in. I was honestly expecting him to have gotten out by now. Instead he's looking around, and seems somewhat nervous. Have I... Have I actually trapped him? Just by closing the doors on him? That's... that's... kind of disappointing, actually. Like I captured him by accident. Huh. Okay then.

Right. I have _questions_ for this lunatic.

* * *

Okay, I think I've got him. Unfortunately I don't have any communication equipment in there, but that's an easy fix, just a moment and-

What.

Okay, no. Just no. It was bad enough when he was just embarrassing me, but this has gone too far. Also, how the fuck did he teleport one of the dismembered arms of a Crusader to him? Whatever the case, he is now making a determined effort to melt his way through the door with the laser mounted on the arm.

This is getting asinine.

Right, communications gear online. Stop time around the door (yes, I can do that, psionics are fucking awesome), making it invulnerable, and we're on.

"If you would kindly stop breaking my things, I would appreciate it," I say as soon as my new comm ball finishes teleporting into the room with the intruder.

He looks down from where the laser has ceased to make any progress against the door, glancing down at the ball by his boot. "Who's asking?" he says.

"My name is Phoenix," I supply.

"You're not Foundry, are you?" he asks. "No, you're definitely not Foundry. You're also not Sovereign. You're not the Glitchers either, they don't build ships like this, and you're not Offworld. They don't have stuff like this." He glances down at the arm, then turns the laser off. How did he even activate it in the first place? "Right. So, looks like you got me. Just tell me something. Who are you working for, and are they planning on getting involved in the Drift? Because we've already got a five-way war going here, and I really don't think we need a sixth."

"I work for me," I say. "As for getting involved... I have no real interest in your politics or war."

Lucy, watching from a monitor I added to her habitation module, speaks up. "Foundry is one of the four groups that I've been keeping track of. I'm pretty sure all four groups are corporations," she says. "At a guess, I'd say the fifth side of this war would be whoever this guy works for. Probably the locals."

The man looks at my comm ball askance. "Look, if you're not going to tell me who you work for, that's fine, but don't lie to me. You've got the biggest ship I've ever even heard of. No independent operator is going to have that much cash."

I consider for a moment. "It would be more accurate to say I _am_ the ship," I say. "I'm not human."

The man blinks for a moment. "Well. Don't that beat all. Let me guess, rogue AI superweapon that got loose?"

"Probably. I was deactivated for yes amount of years and woke up with a mostly corrupted database," I say. "I'm getting better."

"So ancient alien rogue AI superweapon," he says, nodding. "Okay, cool. Explains the cyborg thingums."

"Not really, those are a more recent addition to my arsenal," I say. "But that's not really significant. Who are you, by the way?"

"Me?" the man asks. "I am Ryshaun Fiel, ship hijacker extraordinaire. Call me Fiel, everyone does."

"Right, Fiel," I say. "Wait. You mean you do this for a _living_?" I demand. "You break into space ships, _in flight_ , for a _living_?"

He shrugs. "It's either that or working for one of the corporations, and damned if I will let those jack booted assholes tell me what to do."

"That... seems like a... suspect... duality," I comment. "Okay, so why _my_ ship? I mean really. There have to be easier jobs than this."

"Oh, this isn't a job," he says. "No, this was just to prove that I can. I'd have gotten away with it too if you didn't have unhackable doors."

"Yes, well, the doors don't need computers attached when I can control them directly from the ship's central computer. It's not like doors are complicated, and I'm the only one who really needs to use them," I say. "So let me get this straight. You decided to break into the fourteen and a half kilometer long ship... just to prove that you could. No one is paying you to do this, you're just... doing it."

"Well, I was hoping to pick up some interesting loot that I could sell back at one of the Independent stations, but mostly, yeah," Fiel says. "Got a problem with that?"

"I mean you did trash a bunch of my bots and punch a hole in my ship, so, kind of," I say.

"You're in a fucking war zone, man," Fiel says.

"Yes," I reply. "And up until now, everyone was giving me a respectful berth. You know, as you do when a ship a million times larger than yours shows up."

"Eh," he shrugs. "So, what now?"

"Well your pod is a wreck," I say. "Just getting through my hull is impressive, but surviving it would be too much to ask of anything."

"Eh, it's replaceable," he says. "Just get me back to a station and I'll be fine."

"You seem remarkably flippant," I comment.

"I've hijacked more than fifty ships," he says. "I've seen shit."

"Fifty?" I ask. "And you're still alive?"

"Eh, well, most don't survive their first dozen or so," Fiel says. "I'm just that good."

Hmm. I might have an idea forming. "By most, you mean there are other people like you, who hijack ships for a living?"

"Shit man, there's a whole revolution made up of people like me," he says. "We want the corporations out of our home. All we have are our wits, our gear, and our guts. How else are we supposed to fight back?"

Hmm. Well, that's an idea. That's definitely an idea. "Mister Fiel," I say. "I have a proposal for you. One that could benefit both of us quite a bit."

"I'm listening," he says. 

* * *

A few hours later and Fiel departs in his new pod. Built to his specifications, it has the armor to ram through the hull of any of the ships out here without so much as a scratch, a built in teleporter, a sort of grav-net and onboard medical system (I may have suffered a brief error when he explained why he wanted that feature. Seriously, deliberately spacing himself?), and of course Progenitor stealth tech.

Meanwhile, I have new data.

Firstly, I have the technical data on his gear. It's... interesting.

To start with, his stun gun. Which is also a shotgun. And is armor-piercing. I tried to figure out how _that_ worked, but couldn't make heads or tails of it. I passed it on to one of my Think Tanks. Could be useful.

Next up is this... EMP-esque beam thing. He called it a Crash Beam, which is... accurate, I suppose. It absolutely murders electronics. Hand it off to a Think Tank for analysis. I want countermeasures for this thing ASAP.

Then his hack gun. That is quite literally what it is. It's a gun that shoots hack. And yes, hack is not actually a thing, but I stand by my description of the fucker. It's capable of breaking through even my software protections, which is moderately appalling. Hand that off to a Think Tank. Should improve my cyber warfare capabilities, both offensively and defensively.

His teleporter pad was unfortunately not terribly useful for me. The range is just too short. Though... hmm, I could probably use it in my factories to clear the building pads faster. It's certainly more energy efficient than the teleporter I got from the Gooniverse humans.

The shield was more interesting, but ultimately problematic. Namely that it can't be made bigger without an obscene increase in energy cost. Just powering a shield around a Scarab Tank would take most of the _Ma'at_ 's power output. Powering a shield around the _Ma'at_ would be a challenge for civilization clocking in at a type three on the Kardashev scale. Pass it off to a Think Tank in the hopes that that little bug can be worked around, and for now my smaller units have a ludicrously powerful shield. They're not invulnerable, technically speaking, but if it takes literally nuking a killbot to even scratch the paint, well...

His teleporter is... meh. Short ranged, can't teleport through solid objects, it's not terribly useful. I do plan to incorporate the thing into my bots, but it's not a game changer.

His time manipulation device, which he called a Slipstream, most definitely _is_ a game changer. Oh, I have _ideas_ for this. So very many ideas. More ideas than you can shake a stick at. Ideas for fucking _days_. Seriously, localized time manipulation is _complete and utter bullshit_ if properly applied. I have an entire Think Tank dedicated to designing ways to use this thing for everything from combat to industry to research, because hot damn, this shit is amazing.

Of course, that's just the technical data. And, as valuable as that is, it might just pale in comparison to the other half of Fiel's part of the deal.

Before me stands a modified Incarnation. The base design was the Thoth. The face laser, retractable venomous claws, and psionic abilities stayed, but this one mounts a copy of every bit of equipment Fiel was carrying, loaded into backpack of sorts.

My first Commando awakens.

Hello there, Fiel. Good to have you working for me.

* * *

"Oh, that looks like it hurt!" Lucy says.

"Stun gun or not, those things _suck_ ," my guest, a woman named Ieylene Remi says. "Welp, he's down and out. Think he'll stick around for another try at it?"

"You do know I randomize the course after every attempt, right?" I comment. 

* * *

Lucy's initial assessment of local politics was less than perfect. As it turns out there are two corporations, one organized and one less so, and two mercenary groups, one organized the other less so, running around this area. The organized mercenary group is called Offworld Security, who were hired by a local planet to come in and lay claim to the Drift. They don't shoot to kill, but they will space you, and if they take you prisoner, well, they won't kill you, but you'd be surprised what you can live through.

The disorganized mercenaries are the Glitchers. They used to be a navy, up until a teleportation accident dropped them a few thousand light years from home with no way back. Since then they've coalesced into a bizarre hippy drug circle cum mercenary organization running around in cobbled together space ships with all sorts of weird teleportation technology. In a less chaotic area of space, they'd be gone in short order. Here, not so much.

The corporations are another kettle of fish. The organized one is Sovereign. Which is basically every amoral megacorporation from fiction ever. They have zero fucks to give about anything that isn't money, and they will cheerfully slit your throat for pocket change. Meh.

The less organized one is the Foundry, which started as a splinter from Sovereign that lost contact thanks to an engine failure. They're, well, actually they're _not_ less organized, they're just... well, their organization _works_ without much attention to whether it looks good or not. Sovereign is organized and run by managers, Foundry by engineers. It's a very different sort of organization.

And then there's the Independents, who started as a splinter from the Foundry, but have turned into a full scale rebellion with members from every group. They want everyone else gone so they can get on with their lives. Or at least, that's the version they tell me.

I rather swiftly decided I'm not going to choose sides in this war. Which group are the good guys is a matter of perspective, and even if the Independents do win, odds are they'll just be invaded again by someone else. Of course I'm not going to tell them that, it'd only make them pissy, but it's pretty clearly inevitable when you consider how valuable the region is. No, getting involved would be a lot of work for a cause I'm not really sure I'm comfortable supporting, and I wouldn't really get much out of it. However, I can still benefit from this.

I've partitioned off a section of the _Ma'at_ to serve as a constantly changing obstacle course. It's designed to be brutally difficult, but achievable for these shipjacking lunatics. The entry "fee" is letting me scan their gear. Prizes are awarded based on the speed and degree of success demonstrated. The most basic prize for those who just barely complete the challenge is an armored spacesuit. Most choose to have something written on it, with "I beat Phoenix's Challenge and all I got was this lousy suit", "Mission Tested, Phoenix Approved", and the perennial favorite "Certified Badass" being the most common.

Of course those who do better get better prizes. The next step up the prize ladder is my super slipstream. It didn't take long for me to make some improvements to the base slipstream, resulting in the ability to accelerate local time by as much as a factor of ten. I'm already using the things to speed up R&D by attaching them to the Think Tanks, as well as construction by attaching them to my fabbers. The _Ptah_ should now be completed in about a week, rather than a few months. I decided to make my tenfold slipstream the second level prize, and it's proven quite popular.

For those who truly excel, the final tier of prizes, which of course includes the lower levels, is the Phoenix Omega Pod. The same pod as I gave Fiel, it combines the functionality of all four of the local specialized pods into one. However, there's one catch. If you get this level of achievement, I charge a second fee. I get to scan your brain. It's possible to opt out of the brain scan, but no one has so far.

My reasoning here is simple. Something Frost said stuck with me. I'm not a soldier. So clearly the solution is to acquire some to work for me. This place is remarkably short on admirals and generals, but commandos? Hoo boy, commandos we got. I intend to insert those brain scans into modified Incarnations as needed, creating one-cyborg armies geared for special ops. My Commandos.

Some people don't succeed the first time, but decide to hang around to try again. As a result, I've expanded Lucy's habitation module to handle guests, which is what Miss Remi is doing here. Her next run is scheduled for tomorrow morning.

All in all, a very worthwhile endeavor. I've got some new tech to play with, I've got a slowly growing force of elite soldiers, who admittedly spend most of their time in storage but still, and I've convinced people not to try hijacking my ship anymore. Not bad. 

* * *

Speaking of new tech, the _Ptah_ is coming along beautifully. The central superstructure is already complete, and I've started adding modules. Some modules, like the built-in orbital factory, have to be built in sections, but over all, it's coming along better than I could have hoped. The cloud's resources are making construction a breeze. I've already moved my resource core and my Think Tanks over. Soon my new ship will be ready for deployment.

On the R&D front, I'm making good progress. The slipstream is getting attached to everything. And I do mean _everything_. It's way too useful not to. The shields are getting mounted on my smaller combat units, namely my Incarnations and Crusaders. The different kinds of teleporters are getting mounted on most of my combat units as well. They're not really strategic scale tools, but they have some fun tactical implications.

I've also put some work into integrating the gooniverse tech into my gear. So far the biggest development is a self-repair functionality based on the goo, but I have some other projects in the works. Should be fun.

However, that's what my Think Tanks have been up to. I have been focused on my own database. I've never really had a chance to just sit down and look at how badly my memory was corrupted before now. It's not pretty. I knew the unit banks were a write off, though I've tasked one of the Think Tanks with reconstructing as much as possible, but everything else is just as bad. My history files are pretty much slagged. I've got a few scraps of engagements with... someone, and brief glimpses of some truly exotic technologies, ones I don't even recognize, but... yeah. It's ugly. There's some navigational data in there, but what isn't slagged is meaningless without proper context, which I don't have. Though... maybe. That one looks like a sort of go-to-home function. It's isolated from everything else, blackboxed to hell and back, and has about six redundant copies. Oh, wait, did I say six? I meant six hundred. Of which only a few survived. Issue is, I have no idea how that would work with my universe hoping. Probably badly.

...Eh, why not. I'll plug it into the Inversion Drive for my next jump. It's not like my previous method of picking a random point in space and jumping in that vague direction was any better.

Huh. I think I'm actually going to be sorry to leave this place. A moment of peace and quiet is rare in the life of a Commander.

* * *

 **A/N: For the curious, Phoenix has landed in the universe of the PC game Heat Signature. He doesn't recognize it because, at the time I started writing the story, I had never even heard of the game. As such, Phoenix has no knowledge of it.**

 **Also, a reminder. This is not the story. This is the archive of the story. The actual story is over on SpaceBattles, and is part way through the thirty first and final chapter. (There will be an epilogue, but that's it.) Anyone asking for more will be mocked. Anyone asking for a specific universe to be added to the story will be mocked _viciously._ I don't take requests to begin with, let alone for a story I've already written. **


	11. Chapter 10

**Apologies for the delay. Real life is being aggravating right now.**

 **Chapter 10**

"Are we ready to go?" Lucy asks, buckling herself into the survival pod built into her new quarters.

"Yes," I say through the speaker. "I'm going to miss this place. It was stupid, but entertaining and educational."

"We actually have a destination this time?" she asks, tapping the internal screens to life to give her a view of the outside.

"More or less," I supply.

* * *

The _P'tah_ is ready to leave. Oh, sure, I could stick around and build some more modules, but it doesn't really need them. It already has enough industrial, military, and computational power to be a legitimate threat to an entire starfaring civilization.

Lucy is now ensconced in her new habitation module, which is more than a little overkill for her. The _P'tah's_ structure is built around cubes a hundred meters on a side. This makes it very easy for me to standardize, but building smaller modules and actually attaching them to the ship is basically impossible. As a result, even with the space lost to armor, active defensive systems, an isolated reactor, life support, etc, Lucy's new home has approximately two _million_ square feet for her to live in, divided across twenty five levels. Most of it is empty, as she only really uses maybe a twentieth of one of the floors.

Her living space includes a bedroom, with attached bathroom of course, a small kitchen, a living room, an office of sorts, and of course her lab. She's been having an absolute ball with the DNA I got from the Ethereals and their subject races. Attached to her bedroom is her survival pod. The habitation module is designed to survive the complete annihilation of the _P'tah_. Her survival pod is designed to survive the complete annihilation of the habitation module. She could quite literally fly the thing through a black hole's event horizon and come out the other side unscathed.

As for the _Ma'at_... Well, I just couldn't justify keeping it. The extra effort of bringing it along just wouldn't be worth it. So, with a heavy heart, I had her dismantled. Her components were used for the construction of station that would continue running the challenge I'd set up on its own, as a sort of farewell present for the people of this universe who have so thoroughly entertained me.

However, the _P'tah_ does have some craft docked to it. Specifically, two of my new _Isfet_ class invasion craft. They're essentially scaled-down versions of the _Ma'at_ , but designed and built with the express intention of landing upon and laying claim to a planet. A relatively small three kilometers in length, they contain all the factories, reactors, storage bays, weapons, and computational power necessary to prosecute an invasion. Unlike the _Ma'at_ , they're small enough to be docked internally to the _P'tah_ , meaning I can take them with me without issue.

The new Commandos, all forty six of them, are in stasis in a specially designed module. Each one has a unique personality scanned from a ship jacker's brain, and the equipment to go with. I've run them through a few tests against my regular Incarnations. On average it takes about thirty of my Incarnations, even with the upgrades I've made to the design, to bring down just one of the Commandos. The Commandos are, to a one, absolutely thrilled by the fact that they no longer even have to worry about dying because I can just recreate their bodies and reinstall their brains. Some of them have taken new names, while some have kept their human names. I'm looking forward to an opportunity to unleash them upon some deserving individuals.

And with that, I'm ready to go. Feed those mysterious coordinates into the Inversion Drive, and... punch it.

* * *

Good news, no crash! The _P'tah_ is now orbiting over a planet. It seems to have a single super-continent, and it's very clearly populated. There are cities that can be seen by the naked human eye from space during the day.

Hmm, spacefaring. I'm seeing stations, most of which are pretty clearly civilian. So getting into space is easy for them. Oh, and I've spooked the local ships, which are now scattering. They're fairly small, bigger than the ships from the previous universe, though not by much, but I'm getting some seriously screwy readings from them. I... I think they're using pocket dimensions. They're bigger on the inside!

Wait... no... they're _smaller_ on the _outside_. Yes, there's a difference, though I didn't quite realize that until just now. It has to do with precisely how you go about warping spacetime, and trying to explain it in english would give me a headache. Oh, those look like warships. Hmm. I feel like I should recognize them, but they're honestly kind of generic looking. They kind of look like Narn ships, if the Narn had gone for a white and gunmetal blue color scheme instead of red.

Hmm. I'm getting... something. It _looks_ like a signal, but it's using an exotic energy that I don't recognize and my sensors can barely detect. I'm almost certain they're trying to contact me, however. Hmm.

Okay, let's try various methods of communication until we get a response.

* * *

Radio. We have been reduced to communicating by radio. And not just radio! Oh no, we're communicating by a sort of primitive Morse code. Right now we've just finished sending each other sequences of prime numbers, and now I'm waiting for them to make the next move. I don't even _recognize_ what they were using for communications before.

Wait. Wait. I'm getting a more complex transmission. Run it through analysis... yes, an audio transmission! No longer shall we be sending clicks at each other!

...and I don't understand the language. Well, shit. Hmm. Ah, fuck it. I can't shake the feeling that I've seen those ships before, so you know what? Let's try the universal language of every science fiction universe ever: English.

"This is Phoenix of the _Ptah_ , please respond."

There's a silence for a few minutes. Then I receive a response.

"This is Admiral Gil Graham of the Time Space Administration Bureau. Please state your business in this system."

Gil Graham. Time Space Administration Bureau.

I'm in Nanoha.

Huh.

MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

* * *

"Phoenix," Lucy says.

"Yes?"

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"No. No there is not," I respond, pulling my hair back into a ponytail.

* * *

Initial communication with the TSAB was... slow. Nothing was formally agreed upon beyond a statement that we should meet face to face for further discussion. They wanted negotiations to take place in their territory. I wanted omni-purpose supercomputers with attached subspace pockets nowhere near my ship. End result, I am now meeting with a number of important TSAB officials in a conference room of theirs.

Issue.

The TSAB has... _history_ with killbots operated by ancient intelligent supertech, which they call Lost Logia. Technically speaking, turning me off and locking me up somewhere is part of their official mission. This is complicated by the part where I have human-like intelligence. However, showing up as a faceless killbot would not win me any points, so I decided to make myself a human-looking body for the negotiations.

Good news, I already had a design for such a body. Two in fact. One that looks like a male human, and one female.

Bad news, the male version has a _slight_ defect. It's colorblind. Red-green colorblind. Worse news, I didn't figure this out until I went to... occupy it? Put it on? Whatever the appropriate word is in this case. Now, being colorblind is not a serious issue. Really, it's not. But it's annoying as fuck. So I am using the female version until my Think Tanks manage to fix the male version.

Anyways, I decided to go for tall. TSAB humans are a bit on the short side for the most part, and I have no objections with going for petty intimidation tactics. Also, I was pretty tall when I was human, so it helps with the mental integration. At a hundred and ninety centimeters, I should tower over everyone there. Beyond that, I decided to go for a mostly average body shape. Not too round, not too flat, more of an athletic build than anything else. Bright red hair that goes down to the bottom of my shoulder blades, bright red eyes, and fairly pale skin. My name _is_ Phoenix after all. For clothing I went with a black jumpsuit with a truly kickass grey longcoat if I do say so myself. I may have stolen some design ideas from Signum. I regret nothing. All in all, the look I was going for was "I can kick your ass and look fucking awesome while doing it." I think I succeeded.

Of course, the body only _looks_ human. Progenitor alloy bones, artificially designed muscles, silicon-based stab-proof mesh instead of skin, advanced psionics, a built-in slipstream, and of course my Commander Core lodged in the chest cavity. The Ethereals were hacks with the tools of gods, because this is all genetic engineering. Well, the slipstream and my core aren't, but everything else is.

Of course, Lucy keeps commenting on it. Dammit.

* * *

I ride down to the planet in a modified Skyranger. Figure I'll keep my teleportation as a hole card for the moment. Sure, the TSAB is... mostly reasonable, even if they do have questionable views on child labor, and of course there's the three brains in jars that thought making Jail was a good idea. Yeah, that was a _brilliant_ move on their part.

Right, what do I want, and what do I need in order to get it?

I want their tech. Magic is something I very much want, and their math-based version of it is _extremely_ AI-friendly. I want their universe hoping tech. Yes, I already have the Inversion Drive, but I can't navigate with it beyond pointing in a general direction, and I can't communicate with other universes or hover in the space between universes.

I want a look at their cloning tech. I expect it's less advanced than mine, outside of Lost Logia from the height of the Belkan Empire, but I'd still like to see it. I want a look at their genetics and their research into "linker cores". I want a look at their computers, particularly intelligent and unison devices.

But most of all? I want their subspace pockets. I can think of _so many_ uses for those things, it's insane. Coin toss whether the slipstream or subspace pockets are going to prove more useful, that's how insane this is.

Also, I want to make the place better if I can. No real reason why, I just do.

So. What do I need to get these things?

Well, to start with, I need an adapter that will let me plug into their version of the internet. That should get me a lot of what I want right there. Next, I need to figure out what time period I'm in. The fact that Admiral Graham is here tells me the plot of A's hasn't happened yet, but beyond that I'm not sure. For their cloning tech, genetics, and of course their research into linker cores, I'll need to hit up Jail. That should be worthwhile in and of itself, even if I don't count the tech I acquire from doing so. The man's a ticking time bomb at the best of times. If Precia's still around, well, _I am going to murder that bitch._ I'm a big believer in the punishment fitting the crime. In her case, I'd say a fitting punishment involves orbital railgun strikes. Though if the Garden of Time is intact, I should probably raid its databases too.

Alright, coming in for a landing. Gil will be acting as the translator as I don't speak Mid-Childan (yet), and they don't speak English. This should be fun.

* * *

"No, I have no interest in conquering any part of Administered Space," I say with a sigh. Gil relays my words for the third time. The three admirals start muttering among themselves again.

This is going about as well as I'd expected. So far the three admirals in charge have agreed to give me the adapter. (I don't think they quite grasp just how insane my cyberwar capabilities are, and I'm not about to tell them.) I have agreed to give a guided tour to the _Ptah_ , what parts of it a human can actually visit. (Which isn't that much, but again, not going to tell them that.) Beyond that, however, we have stalled out. I think something is being lost in translation, because they don't quite seem to grasp that I have no interest in war with them.

In better news, I now know what time period I'm in. It is, by their calendar, early July of 0065. Assuming my memory is correct, this places me at about a month after MGLN, but five months before A's. Not a bad place to be, all things considered.

"Look," I say. "We just met. Perhaps a more comprehensive agreement can wait until after we've gotten a chance to learn more about each other."

Gil once again relays my words, and there's a round of nodding from the admirals. Good. This was getting tedious. Gil turns back to me. "The Admirals propose a recess, with a second meeting to occur at a date to be determined later."

"That's acceptable," I say.

And that's it. I board my Spaceranger and return to the _Ptah_ with my new magitech/mundane tech adapter.

I have an internet to surf.

* * *

It's amazing what you can get when you have access to a civilization's publicly available knowledge base. I am now fluent in Mid-Childan, Belkan, and Al Hazredi, and boy oh boy do I have some fun new tech.

Subspace pockets? Check.

Magical theory? Check.

Medical information on linker cores and how they work? Check.

Their universe hoping technology? Check.

NONE of that was considered restricted information. And why should it be? Civilians use all of the above in their everyday lives. But for me? Oh, it's a goldmine. I don't have quite enough information to create an artificial mage of my own just yet, but I'll get there.

I did get a bit of a look at their understanding of genetics, and it's... weak. Earth circa the year two thousand weak. Okay, maybe slightly better than that, but not by much. From the looks of it, they've been using magic to brute force the parts they don't get, which is a... questionable approach. At least, that's what I'm able to get from the report on Project Fate. Side note, the TSAB needs to improve their encryption. Hacking that was disappointingly easy for a civilization that routinely creates AIs.

Alright. What do they have that I still want?

Hmm...

Not much, actually. The stuff I still want, I can get by hitting up Jail. At this point I mostly just want to be allowed to stick around for a while without them shooting at me. Hmm. 

* * *

"Hey, Lucy," I say.

"What is it, Phoenix?" she asks.

"How do you feel about getting a look at an Infinite Library?"

She blinks. "That sounds fascinating. Why?"

"I'll explain in a moment," I say. "How do you feel about seeing Earth as it was thousands of years before you were born?"

She blinks again. "Phoenix. What did you do?"

"In this case, nothing," I said. "We just happen to be in a situation where I know where an alternate Earth virtually identical to yours circa the year two thousand CE can be found. I did warn you that was a possibility when you asked to join me. So. Are you interested?"

"Yes."

"Good." 

* * *

Right, excuse now ready, I can inform the admirals that I am ready and willing to meet with them whenever they should wish. Eh, they'll get back to me.

In the meantime, I need to track down Jail. Finding him would be hard. Getting him to come to me however... It only takes a few minutes to find a social media account that I'm basically certain is one of the Numbers, Jail's cyborg... daughters? I mean that is how they think of themselves, but they're all pregnant with clones of him, so that's kind of squicky... Anyways, I'm pretty sure this is Quattro I've found. Seeing as Precia's already negative space wedgied herself out of existence, Quattro is currently the highest on my list of people who need a good killing.

I strike up a casual conversation with her. Easy enough. I'm not going to any real effort to hide who I am, however, so I expect she'll play right into my hands. After all, I am a living Lost Logia. Exactly the sort of bait Jail could never resist. Hm, run that bit in the background.

Now, pass off the subspace pockets to a Think Tank, ditto for the magic theory and linker core data, and now for my burning question.

Interuniverse travel. What is the difference between mine and theirs? 

* * *

Oh good, another meeting with the Admirals. Yawn. Oh well, this time I have a script. And I'm fluent in their language, but they don't need to know that.

"The admirals would like to know what it is you want here," Gil relays.

"Not much, to be honest," I say. "Or rather, I don't want anything for myself. I have a passenger, a human, named Lucy Tak. She would like to visit your Infinite Library. Additionally, she would like to visit Non Administered World Ninety Seven, as she believes it to be nearly identical to a much earlier stage in her own world's development. To that end, I want to foster positive relations with the Bureau." I pause for a moment, considering.

"I noticed that in your recent news, there was a young woman who was arrested near Non Administered World Ninety Seven. Assuming the translation software you, Admiral Graham, provided to me is accurate, the young woman is a clone, correct?"

Graham stiffens, then nods reluctantly. "Miss Testarossa's case is not something we can comment on here."

"Of course not," I say, agreeably. Bull shit. The TSAB has a really sketchy view on age. That includes crimes, and Fate is being tried for the crimes she committed. She's _nine_. Or rather, she thinks she's nine. She's actually _four_. Oh, sure, she'll get off with glorified community service thanks to the various extenuating circumstances, but it's still bull shit. "However, I am given to understand that your medical technology is... less than what I am capable of. As a clone, there are a number of health concerns she is likely to face. I could correct those issues as a proof of concept, and as a precursor to a more general medical program which I would operate as a gesture of good faith."

Gil hesitates, then translates. This sets off some excited whispering among the admirals. Health issues are one of the major reasons why they _don't_ use clones, as they are desperately short of manpower. The conversation goes back and forth for a bit, but ultimately they turn back to Gil. "This is acceptable to the Admiralty," he says. "Where would you be establishing your medical program?"

"I'm thinking a station in the Dimensional Sea, near Non Administered World Ninety Seven," I say. "I'm headed there anyways, and my ship is capable of constructing anything I might need. It places me outside Administered Space, but close enough to get to without difficulty." That, and it puts me in position to head off the Book of Darkness debacle, but that's not something I feel like telling said debacle's primary author.

It only takes a few more minutes for everyone to agree. 

* * *

Well. I can safely say that I am in fact helping. My Jail trap is proceeding apace. I'll be able to help Fate a bit, because damn, but that girl deserves something good to make up for all the shit she's gone through. I'm going to be in position to deal with the Book issue. And I have shinies. Lots and lots of shinies.

Okay, I know there's a shoe just waiting to drop somewhere. But for now, I think I'm going to enjoy this.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Ho hum. Any moment now. Ah, there it is. A flash of light heralds the arrival of three people, one adult and two children. Or at least, I view them as children. Oh, and a dog. That would be Arf.

"Hello, Miss Harlaown. Or is it Missus Harlaown?" I ask, offering Admiral Lindy my hand.

"Just miss or admiral is fine," Lindy says, taking my hand and shaking it.

"I understand you're operating as my patient's legal guardian for the moment," I say, guiding her, Fate, and her son Chrono through the habitation module towards the medical wing. Lucy is currently visiting the Infinite Library, meaning it's just my avatar and my guests in the room.

"That's correct," Lindy says.

"And Enforcer Harlaown is here as Miss Testarossa's parole officer," I say.

Chrono just nods.

"Excellent." We enter the medical wing. I had to expand it a bit for this task, but it's not exactly difficult. "And of course Arf Testarossa." I nod to the puppy. "Here as Miss Testarossa's familiar."

Instantly the puppy shifts into the form of a woman in her early twenties. She doesn't quite glare at me, but I can tell she doesn't trust me. Fair enough, given what she and her master have been through.

"And finally Miss Testarossa. May I call you Fate?" I ask.

Fate looks up at my avatar's face and- oh, oh that hurts just to look at. No child should have that dead expression. Just... Oh, Precia should count herself lucky she took herself out before I got here, because I would have _hurt_ her. "I don't mind," Fate says.

"Alright," I say. "Fate, would you mind laying down on this table for me?" I gesture at one of the pieces of equipment in the room. She does so quickly and without complaint. "Okay, I need you to hold still while I run some diagnostics. You shouldn't feel anything, but let me know if you do, alright?"

"Okay."

Oh, Precia is one _very_ lucky woman. 

* * *

One of the fun bits of being an AI is the ability to multitask. Which is why another of my avatars is currently sipping a local fruit juice at a bar on a beach. "Hello, Mister Scaglietti," I say as the man in question takes the seat next to me. "I wasn't expecting you to meet me in person."

"Well, for someone of your caliber, I thought it prudent to be gracious," he says. "Please, call me Jail." Yep. He's every bit as charming as he is arrogant and predictable. Hmm... spring the trap now or let him talk for a bit? Eh, not much point in letting him talk. That's... Tre, and... I think that's Cinque. I almost didn't recognize her without her eyepatch. Oh, and they've got just enough of an anti-magic field up to scramble teleports.

Too bad my teleporters don't use magic.

Six of my Commandos materialize and blast the two Numbers with their stun guns. At the same time, I turn my psionic might on Jail. It's the work of seconds to subdue his mind, forcing him into obedience.

"Tsk, tsk, Mister Scaglietti," I say. "I was expecting better from you. I was expecting at least some resistance. But no. That would take willpower, and you don't actually have any will of your own, do you? You're a slave to your programming, even if the result is not what your creators expected. I'm disappointed. Ah well, we can talk about this back at the Cradle. Which you will be telling me the location of. Now." 

* * *

"Alright," I say as the diagnostic finishes processing. "So, from what I know about the cloning techniques used in your creation, you lucked out, Fate. You have no major imminent health concerns, and could likely live nearly a full life."

"Nearly?" Lindy asks.

"Nearly," I say. "There are a number of minor defects that are likely a result of the imperfect cloning process. Additionally, her telomeres are a bit shorter than they should be, which is entirely expected and will shorten her lifespan by about five years if not treated. These are because of the cloning process. However, there are a few other minor genetic defects that would be easy to fix while we're doing this anyways."

"Like what?" Fate asks.

"Increased risk of lung cancer, increased risk of early onset dementia, and a few other minor health issues. I'm pretty sure these were inherited naturally, and are supposed to be there," I supply.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Lindy asks.

"Well, that's up to you and Fate," I say. "I'm going to offer you a list of options. I will provide my recommendations of course, but the choice is ultimately yours."

"What are these options?" Chrono asks, speaking up for the first time.

"Well let's start with the most extreme," I say. "I could simply grow Fate a new body and transfer her mind into it. I'd rather not go this route as I don't understand the science of linker cores well enough to make any guarantees in that regard, but it is a possibility. Of course, if I'm creating a new body for her, we could make adjustments as you see fit. However, as I said, I'd rather not go this route."

"I think that's a bit too extreme," Lindy says carefully. Arf appears to be seconds from trying to tear out my throat with her teeth. Fair enough, considering the similarities between what I just proposed and what Precia tried.

"I agree," I say. "So let's move on to gene therapy. There are a number of ways we can go about this." 

* * *

Jail's base is well hidden. However, I have Jail under mind control. I can literally walk in through the front door. Me and twenty of my Commandos. Once I explained the mission to them, well, they were rather eager to begin.

Oh, and that's Quattro. No, you don't get to talk. In fact, you don't get to talk ever again, because I'm burning out the speech centers of your brain. Fucking sociopathic child-abusing monster. Hmm. Kill you now, or hand you over to the authorities?

...You hurt a defenseless child. I'm not feeling particularly merciful. Lets see how long it takes your brain to burn, shall we? Oh, that wasn't very long at all. I kick her corpse aside as I march deeper into the facility, my Commandos fanning out to neutralize any other active Numbers in the base.

Ah, there's the database. Plug in a direct connection to my network, and let the download begin. Wait. Is that-? 

* * *

"There are three methods I can use to correct your genetic code," I say to Fate. "The simplest would be a targeted viral insertion of DNA."

"You'd make Fate sick?" Arf demands.

"Essentially, yes," I say, before turning back to Fate. "The infection would target your stem cells, correcting the DNA of the cells so that all your future cells would be fixed. It would take a while to take full effect however, and it would require you to endure what would feel like a period of about a week of severe illness."

"That sounds... unpleasant," Fate says.

"It would be," I agree.

"What are the other options?" Lindy asks.

"Option two would involve a manual chemical induced rewrite of every cell in your body," I say. "It would be the least unpleasant, but it would take several months, and you'd spend most of it unconscious in a tank."

Fate shivers slightly. "No."

Arf bristles.

"Alright then," I say. "Option three is my preferred solution anyways. Nanobot genetic reconstruction. I'd be injecting tiny machines into your body that would repair your genetic code."

"What are the downsides of this option?" Lindy asks.

"Well, for starters, it requires a bit more trust on your part as nanobots are incredibly versatile," I say. "I swear upon my honor and my name that I mean you no harm, but if you don't trust me, that's the end of it. In terms of physical downsides, there would be a period of low-grade illness. The severity of the illness would be inversely proportional to how long it is, but I would be able to control and alter that as needed. In terms of advantages, it allows for on-the-fly correction of any errors that might crop up, and we can set the treatment period to whatever you'd like."

Fate and Arf share a look. "I think I'd like that," Fate says.

"If you're certain, we can start as soon as I have the nanobots programmed," I say. I bite my lip for a moment. "Miss Harlaown, Enforcer Harlaown, could I ask the two of you to step out of the room for a moment?"

"What for?" Lindy asks.

"I have a personal question I want to ask Fate," I say. "She can tell you if she wants to afterwords, but I feel that I should let her make that choice."

Chrono's looking rebellious, but Lindy just nods. "Alright," she says. 

* * *

It is. It absolutely is.

Before me stands a tank. Inside that tank is a small form. A young girl, maybe four years old. If her eyes were open, they'd be a rather striking case of complete heterochromia.

"Place is secure, boss," one of my Commandos, George Pakira, reports, coming up behind me.

"Thank you, George," I say. "Take the cyborgs to the incarceration module of the _Ptah_. We'll turn them over to the authorities later. Take Jail as well."

"Yes, boss." He departs.

I stare at the tank for a long moment. Then I press the release button. The tank drains, then slides open. I carefully lift the child into my arms and start towards the entrance. The Spaceranger will be here soon. She's going to need... well, a lot of things, actually. I have a terrible suspicion that this isn't the girl I think it is, but rather a failed prototype, one who died unmourned and unremembered in the story. Not this time. Not in my story, damn it! No, she's going to live, and she's going to be happy, this I swear. 

* * *

"What did you want to ask?" Fate asks as Arf hovers protectively behind her.

"There is one additional possibility raised by your choice of treatment method," I say. "I can remove the scarring from your back."

Fate blinks as if smacked. Arf sucks in a breath in shock.

"I am aware of the emotional context of those scars," I say. "I will fully understand if you elect to keep them. However, I wanted to ensure that you were aware of the possibility. You don't have to make up your mind now, in fact I suggest you don't, but if at any point during your treatment you wish for your scars to be removed, I can do that for you."

Fate blinks. "Thank you."

Arf is less restrained. "Why?" she demands. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?"

I sigh. "I am doing this because I wish to. Because at the end of the day, if it means one less child is in pain, it will have been worth it. Does that answer your question?"

"Can we have a minute?" Fate asks me.

"Of course," I say, heading for the door. 

* * *

"Can we come back in?" Lindy asks as I step through the door to join her and Chrono.

"No, Fate's discussing with Arf," I say. "Don't worry, I'm still monitoring the room. Nothing untoward will happen."

There's a moment of silence.

"I approve, by the way," I comment.

"Approve?" Lindy asks.

"Of what you're doing," I say. "Fate needs a mother in her life. A real mother."

Lindy blinks. "I..."

"No child should have to go through what she did," I say. "She needs you."

"I know," Lindy says quietly. "How did you find out? I only just filed the initial paperwork two days ago."

"I am a machine of many secrets," I say. "Let's just leave it at that."

Lindy sighs. "You're a good woman, Phoenix."

"Um. About that..."

* * *

This. Is. _Fascinating.  
_  
The TSAB recognizes three distinct layers of reality. The first is real space. People live in real space. It's a friendly, if unforgiving, place, that fills most universes. Between the universes is something called the Dimensional Sea, which is ever so slightly trippy, and a place where the physical laws that govern real space are more like strongly worded suggestions. Beyond that is Imaginary Space. In Imaginary Space, physical laws are meaningless, magic doesn't work, and reality is out to lunch.

Imaginary Space is what I punch through when I use the Inversion Drive, and the source of psionic power. The Dimensional Sea is a buffer zone between real space and Imaginary Space, where concepts meet laws, and chaos collides with order. The result is the energy the TSAB calls mana, which pervades the Dimensional Sea and leaks into real space where it can be used by mages. This has interesting applications involving the interaction between psionics and magic, with the precise results being extremely variable. I'm still working on pinning down the mechanics of the two.

As I said, _fascinating_.

However, I have figured out one _very_ useful application of the combination. Within the Dimensional Sea? I can quite literally will matter into existence. And why not? Psionics aren't bound by anything as logical as conservation of mass, and magic brings order to the chaos of Imaginary Space, binding things into permanent forms. I'm almost ashamed at how easily I just stumbled across a route for just _creating_ matter ex nihilo.

I've officially evolved beyond being a galactic war machine. I am now capable of prosecuting a war across universes. I have time manipulation. I have spacetime folding. I have FTL. I have enough technology that, should I encounter a fully armed vanilla commander in my travels, I could roll them up like a cheap rug.

And none of it matters compared to the small girl undergoing critical surgery in my medical bay. 

* * *

The girl, Vivio, my Vivio, is very, _very_ sick. As in, "some of her internal organs aren't working at all" sick. She has more genetic issues than I care to mention, some of which are so horrific that... that... Let me put it this way. If nothing else kills her, her arms will basically fall off by the time she turns eight. Actually, it's worse than that. Her arms will _die_ , and if they aren't amputated necrosis will set in and kill her. That is one of the _less_ horrific things that will happen to her if I can't prevent it. I am desperately trying to keep her alive and fix her broken genetic code. It is a fight I am winning so far, but all it takes is one mistake for it all to prove meaningless.

So I won't make that mistake. I swore she would live. I intend to keep my word on that point. No compromise, no retreat. You hear me universe? You can't have this one! This one is _mine_. And if you don't like it, tough shit.

Right, I should probably check up on my new passengers. 

* * *

We're heading to Earth, or Non Administered World Ninety Seven as the TSAB calls it. Fate, having started nanobot therapy, clearly cannot leave my supervision without endangering her health. Clearly. That's my story and I'm sticking with it. It's not like anyone's in a position to accuse me of lying, now are they?

I can fix physical injuries. At a stretch, I can even heal wounds of the mind. Wounds of the spirit though, those are beyond my ken. Fate's scars are all three. I can remove the physical scars. If Fate asked me to, I could excise the memories of them. But I can't mend the deeper pain, not without crossing lines I refuse to even consider. No, Fate needs something more. Some _one_ more.

Of course, taking a prisoner out of Administered Space is a complicated task, which is why I am now playing host to Lindy, Chrono, and half a dozen TSAB personnel assigned to help guard Fate. Oh well, at least Lucy and Lindy are hitting it off quite well.

No, not like that! What is wrong with you people?

Ugh. Lucy should find talking with Yuuno interesting as well. Other than the adjustment period as everyone settled into their new quarters, everything has gone swimmingly. Even if Lindy does insist on doing unspeakable things to her tea. 

* * *

The teleportation aftereffects fade as my avatar steps out in a Japanese park. Assuming the map is correct... That way.

I walk through a light summer morning rain, coming up on a cozy looking house with an attached dojo. I knock twice, then wait. A friendly looking woman with auburn hair opens the door. "Can I help you?" she asks in Japanese.

"I hope so," I say. "Is your younger daughter home? I would like to speak with her."

"Nanoha?" the woman, Momoko Takamachi, says. "Of course. Would you like to come in out of the rain?"

"Thank you," I say, stepping through the door. "My name is Phoenix."

Momoko frowns briefly in confusion at the name, then shakes her head. "I'll tell Nanoha you're here."

"Thank you," I say again, taking a moment to take in the house. It's every bit as cozy on the inside as it is on the outside. It has that unmistakable air of somewhere people _live_. Not just a house, a home. And here comes Nanoha down the stairs. Oh my god she's adorable. And that's Yuuno on her shoulder and Raising Heart under her shirt. She pauses, looking at me quizzically. "Hello, Nanoha."

"Mom said your name was Phoenix?" Nanoha asks. "Do you- are you with Lindy and Fate?"

"More like they're with me at the moment," I say with a smile. "Fate wants to see you, do you think you can get away for a bit?"

"Of course!" Oh my, her face just lit up and now she's even more adorable. It's all I can do not to pick her up and cuddle her to death, she's so cute. She runs off to let her mom know that she'll be out for a bit, then rushes back over to me, quickly pulling on her shoes and grabbing an umbrella. "Let's go!" I wish I'd had half her energy when I was her age.

We depart from the Takamachi house, heading for the park. "You said Fate is with you?" Nanoha asks.

"She's undergoing medical treatment," I say. "Which was how we were able to get her away from Mid-Childa."

"Fate-chan's hurt?" Nanoha asks, suddenly worried.

"No more than she was when last you saw her," I say. "It's just... she wasn't put together perfectly. I'm fixing that."

 _You?  
_  
Ah, right, magic-based telepathy. That was Yuuno in his ferret form. "Yes, me," I say. "I'm not a human. You'd call me a lost logia. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Scrya."

 _Likewise.  
_  
"So you're a machine?" Nanoha asks.

"Yes," I say. "Much like your partner there. Speaking of which, greetings, Raising Heart."

"Greetings, Commander Kappa-20963027-A-6b," Raising Heart replies.

...

What.

* * *

"Raising Heart, you know Phoenix-san?" Nanoha asks.

"No, my master," Raising Heart says. "I have never met Commander Kappa-20963027-A-6b before."

"Yuuno," I ask. "How old is Raising Heart?"

 _I don't know,_ Yuuno says telepathically. _I found her with the Jewel Seeds. I thought she was a relic from Al Hazred.  
_  
"She knows my serial number," I said. "If I had to bet, I'd say she was probably old when the Al Hazredi were just figuring out that round things roll. I'm a Commander. Our age is measurable on a geological scale."

I shake my head. "Deal with this later. For now, everyone hold still. Teleportation to commence in four, three, two, one." 

* * *

We step off the TSAB transportation pad. "Welcome to the _Ptah_ , Nanoha, Yuuno," I say. Yuuno jumps off Nanoha's shoulder and shifts back into the form of a young boy. "This is my Command Ship. We are in the habitation module, which is the only section designed for humans. The medical wing is this way." I start walking.

"Fate-chan is here?" Nanoha asks earnestly. "She's sick?"

"Yes, she's here," I say. "And she is mildly sick. At the moment she has a mild fever. However, you shouldn't be concerned. That's entirely expected as she is currently having the damage to her genetic structure repaired."

"And this will make her healthier?" Nanoha asks.

"At a minimum, it will extend her life expectancy by five years," I say. "She wants to talk to you about something, actually." I step through a door into a sort of waiting room. Off to the left is Fate's treatment room. On the right, Vivio's. "Fate is through that door," I say, pointing. "Would you be willing to leave Raising Heart with me while you talk to Fate? I want to ask her some questions."

"Raising Heart?" Nanoha asks.

"Affirmative, my master," Raising Heart says. "I will stay with Commander Kappa-20963027-A-6b."

"Okay," Nanoha says, pulling Raising Heart off and handing her to me. "Take care of her." Nanoha looks at me.

"Of course," I say. The door opens and Nanoha rushes through.

"Fate," Nanoha says.

"...Nanoha," Fate responds, cautiously meeting Nanoha's eyes.

I close the door. Let them have their moment in private. I move over to a convenient chair and place Raising Heart on my lap. Yuuno is hovering nearby, try not to be conspicuous. "Raising Heart," I say. "How were you able to identify me?"

"The transponder from your central core is active, Commander Kappa-20963027-A-6b," Raising Heart says.

Transponder? Central core? Wait, the resource core! The only bit of my old body that's still around, and that I don't fully understand. That has to be it. It has an inter-universe transponder?

"Why does she keep referring to you by your full serial number?" Yuuno mutters.

"Because I outrank her," I say, giving voice to my suspicion.

"Affirmative," Raising Heart says.

"Right," I say. "Raising Heart. Call me Phoenix. Please."

"Of course, Phoenix," Raising Heart says.

"You're Raising Heart's superior officer?" Yuuno asks.

"No," I say, bits of data from my files clicking into place. "I outrank her, but we're not part of the same chain of command. Or even the same branch of the military."

"Confirmed," Raising Heart says.

"What branch of the military are you from then?" Yuuno asks.

"Access denied," Raising Heart says. "Information requires an Indigo Ten level of clearance."

Yuuno blinks. "What's my clearance level?" he asks.

"Guest user Yuuno Scrya has been assigned an Orange Two level of clearance. Master Nanoha Takamachi has Blue Twenty clearance."

"And me?" I ask.

"Violet Twelve," Raising Heart says. "Information is available for access at your request."

"Do it," I say. "And while you're at it, I'm raising Nanoha's clearance level to as high as I can."

"Confirmed. Master Nanoha Takamachi's clearance has been increased to Violet Eleven status. Accessing data on the Commander Program."

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. So that's who I was. 

* * *

"You're what?" Lucy asks.

I've decided to gather the important humans aboard the ship to hear what I've discovered. Lucy is sitting next to Lindy, while Fate sits on Lindy's other side. Arf is on Fate's lap in puppy form, her face just barely resting on the circular table they're gathered around. Nanoha sits to Fate's right, while Yuuno sits to Lucy's left, with Chrono on his left. Some of the TSAB agents are a bit miffed at being left out, but if it's really that important to them, they can ask Lindy or Chrono later.

"I'm a creation of a previous multiversal civilization. One so old that any trace of them was gone by the time the Al Hazredi empire was in full swing. Raising Heart's data is extremely incomplete, but from what we do have, along with the fragments from my own memory banks, we've been able to piece together a rough explanation for why I exist," I say, standing across the table from Lindy and Lucy. Raising Heart rests on the table in front of me.

"This civilization, which I will be referring to as the Progenitors from now on, had the ability to travel across not only the Dimensional Sea, but also Imaginary Space. They colonized many universes, and might very well be the reason humanity shows up so frequently. However, some universes were far more hostile. In one, they encountered... something. Neither Raising Heart nor I are sure what that something was, but it was dangerous. Extremely so. The Progenitors decided it had to be eliminated. However, it apparently had a knack for adapting and learning, and they could not allow it to escape from the universe it was trapped in. As a result, whatever they sent to eliminate the threat could not possess the ability to travel between universes. It could not use magic, or any other exotic effects that would allow the enemy a chance to develop a means of escape.

"So the Commanders were created. No magic, no exotic abilities, just the enemy's equal and opposite. We were created to fight and destroy it utterly. It is Raising Heart's and my belief that we succeeded, at which point we were deactivated."

"Commander Phoenix was the senior officer in Galaxy 6b of this universe," Raising Heart provides.

"Indeed," I say. "I would have been the oldest, and therefore the ranking, commander in what would become known as the Milky Way in that universe. It's possible I am the oldest commander deployed to that universe entirely, and as a result would have been responsible for coordinating the entire offensive, across an entire universe."

"But why were you turned off?" Nanoha asks, troubled.

"Because my job was done," I say. "I was a very different individual back then. In fact, I strongly suspect that my current personality is either a glitch, a sort of AI hallucination, or was installed remotely by an outside force at a much later date. Far more curious is why I woke up again. That shouldn't have happened."

"Activation of a dormant commander requires Ultraviolet level clearance," Raising Heart supplies.

"Indeed," I say. "The logical explanation is that someone or something with that sort of clearance activated me. This leads to three questions."

"Who or what did it, and why do they have that clearance," Chrono comments. I nod.

"Why did they activate you," Lucy says.

"And how many others were activated," I say. "We are lucky that I ended up with a mostly stable personality. A rogue commander is a galactic scale threat. An intelligent rogue commander, freed of the limitations we initially operated under, is a multiverse scale threat. There may be others like me out there right now, and they may be far less friendly than I am."

There's a moment of silence.

"So what do we do about it?" Nanoha asks.

I like how she immediately went to the word we. The girl never could stay away from a worthwhile cause.

"For now, nothing," I say. "I have a number of tasks I intend to complete here first. However, eventually, I will leave in search of whatever activated me and any of my other awakened kin. I would like you to come with me."

"Why?" Lindy asks.

"Because I know the TSAB will assign someone to it," I say. "We're talking about multiple lost logia capable of wiping out entire civilizations with ease. Of course they'll assign someone. I want it to be you because I trust you, and, to put it simply, I think you're good people. I'd rather it was you than someone else."

"What about me and Arf?" Fate asks.

"The TSAB will almost certainly sentence you to glorified community service as part of their military," I say. "This can be your first assignment. Or would you rather see what job they give you instead?"

"No, I want to stay," Fate says.

"And me?" Nanoha asks.

"In your case, it's a bit more complicated," I say. "To start with, I know you'll want to go because Fate will be going," and there's the blush, "but additionally, I believe you would benefit from it. You are a ferociously intelligent young woman. Your school is not teaching you anything new. Is it?"

Nanoha fights back her blush, then reluctantly shakes her head. "But you would?"

"I would," I say. "I have access to knowledge your world has yet to even conceive of. With it, you would be able to grow. I will of course speak with your parents first however."

"Oh. Okay," Nanoha says. She tries to hide it, but I can see she's interested.

"Why do you want anyone along in the first place?" Chrono asks.

"Because I am not the Commander I once was," I say. "I like my current personality, and I imagine I would not like my original personality much, but my current personality is far less competent than my original. I am not a tactical or strategic genius. I need help."

Chrono nods. Lindy speaks up. "I will send a message to Bureau command about this. It shouldn't be hard to make this happen."

"Thank you," I say.

It's good to have friends.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12  
**  
Fate's therapy is coming along precisely as planned. She and Nanoha keep slipping off to talk whenever Nanoha comes to visit, which is probably a good thing. I'm not sure what her decision will be about her scars though.

...That's probably a bad idea. Yes, I'm quite certain that's a bad idea. Let's put that thought on hold for later. I'll come back to that.

Vivio is... stable, though it was touch and go for a bit there, to the point where I quite literally had to use raw psionic power to prevent her from dying. I'm still working on putting together a proper genetic sequence for her, but I should be able undo the damage Jail did in a few days. She hasn't woken up yet of course, and I have no interest in waking her up until I've healed her. Jail's lucky he's already in the hands of the Bureau, because every time I look at Vivio, every time I remember that this isn't actually the Vivio I know, but a girl he created and allowed to die all for his mad vision... What I did to Quattro would have looked merciful by comparison.

I've started work on the Imhotep medical station. Hanging in the Dimensional Sea near Earth, it's equipped with the most advanced medical technology I have. Here, I can heal anything and everything short of death, and under the right circumstances I could probably fix that too. It should be done in a few more hours, tops.

...That is also a bad idea. A very bad idea. Put that one on hold too.

However, with all that out of the way, I now have the freedom to tackle the real reason I wanted to come to Earth. My avatar steps on to the teleportation pad. Still the female version. Fixing the male one was... successful, but had unanticipated side-effects, most of which were worse than color blindness. Freaking gender disparity and the male tendency towards a more fragile genetic structure. The Think Tanks are working on that. But that's for the future. For now, I have a job to do. 

* * *

It's sunny today as I walk through Uminari City. It's one of the smaller cities Tokyo more or less consumed as it grew. It's also something of a weirdness magnet, as two high rank mages were born here about ten years ago, the jewel seeds landed here, and of course my target recreated itself here.

Hmm. Hospital or house, hospital or house? Let's try the house first.

I walk up to the door and knock before folding my hands behind my back. A few moments later a blonde woman opens the door, then does a double take. She glances into the house at a woman who looks remarkably similar to me, though her hair is more magenta than red, then back at me. "Can I help you?" she asks.

I considered a number of approaches for this scenario. I could try to play this quietly, but considering what the women in front of me know, and what they're concerned about, I decided that my only option that didn't end with violence was a blitzkrieg.

"My name is Phoenix," I say in Belkan. "I am here because I want to help Hayate walk again and to free you from the corruption that has taken root in the Tome of the Night Sky."

Good choice on my part, I think. Signum, my lookalike, was halfway to summoning Laevatein before I even finished my name. Shamal, the blonde, looks stunned.

"Shamal?" Hayate's voice comes drifting through the house. "Who's at the door?"

The tension breaks. "Maybe, maybe you should come in?" Shamal offers.

"Thank you." 

* * *

"How much do you know about your condition?" I ask, sipping at the tea Hayate prepared. I offered to help, but was politely ignored. She's _nine_ , and she's essentially the mother to four immortal beings capable of bringing the planet down around its inhabitants ears. All while paralyzed from the waist down and crippled by pain from the _thing_ parasitizing her soul.

"Shamal says the Book of Darkness is draining me," Hayate says, glancing down at the tome in question. We are currently gathered around a table in her house. Hayate sits at one end, I sit at the other. The four Wolkenritter are flanking her protectively. The tome sits on the table between us. "If the book is completed, I will be healed. But completing would mean hurting other people."

"Unfortunately, Shamal is only partially correct," I say. "The Book is indeed parasitizing your body. Completing it would end this, but it would not heal you. Instead, the book would possess you. The defense program, Nachtwal, would take control of your body, and use you to bring destruction to this universe."

"And how do you know this?" Vita demands.

"Simple," I say. "I am not human. I am a Lost Logia that predates the Al Hazredian Empire by millions of years. I know many things." Not a lie, though not really the truth either. "Among those things, is the future, at least in this case."

"And what is the future?" Signum asks coldly.

"If I were not here, you would complete the Book," I say. "This would result in a cataclysmic battle as the TSAB strives mightily to contain Nachtwal. Ultimately, Nachtwal, and the Tome of the Night Sky, would be destroyed. The four of you, along with Hayate, would survive. The Tome's central intelligence would not. It is my goal to prevent her death if at all possible."

"How would you save her?" Zafira asks. He's currently in his human form. As the only member of the Wolkenritter who can match my avatar for height, I can understand that choice.

"I am not entirely certain yet," I say. "However, what we have here is a unique opportunity. We have a master of the book who is not a conquering ego maniac, we have a lost logia with knowledge that exceeds any possessed since the Tome was originally corrupted, and we have the resources of the TSAB on call. If we cannot succeed, it cannot be done."

Hayate speaks up. "You want to save people?"

"That is the plan," I say.

"What do I have to do?" Hayate asks.

"I would ask you to move onto my ship," I say. "I will be able to better monitor your health if you are there. Additionally, there are a number of people your age who will be there that I expect will be more than happy to be your friends."

"Why should we trust you?" Vita asks, glaring until Hayate flicks her ear.

"I have no guarantees I can give you," I say. "The most I can do is swear upon my honor and my name that Hayate _will_ live. The four of you are knights. I hope that's enough for you."

Signum glares at me... no, she's not glaring, that's just her resting face, and nods solemnly. 

* * *

I _may_ not have thought this all the way through. Bringing another sick girl onboard? Fine. Bringing the very thing that killed Lindy's husband onboard? That might not have been the best idea. Good news, Lindy's a reasonable sort. Once I explained the situation, she was mostly okay with it. Mostly. The _Ptah_ now mounts an Arc-en-Ciel, but if that's what it takes to soothe her concerns, I'm fine with that.

Reaching the central intelligence of the Tome of the Night Sky, or Reinforce, the Blessed Wind, as Hayate has named her, was tricky. Interfacing with a foreign computer is hard enough. Interfacing with one that's pretending to be a book is much more complicated. However, we managed it, mostly thanks to Yuuno, who seemed to regard it as just another day at the office. I guess for him it kind of is.

Anyways, I am now in contact with Reinforce. We're... not talking exactly. Communication between AI of our potency is far more complicated than simple speech. I want to save her. She's in many ways my reflection. Where I am an engine of war that has grown into an intelligent being with emotions and concerns, she is an intelligent being who was corrupted into an engine of war. There's nothing else in the multiverse quite like the two of us, and it's nice to communicate with someone who's gone through similar experiences.

Precisely as I expected, Hayate has made friends with Nanoha and Fate. And there weren't even any lasers involved! May have to fix that later, actually...

Right. Urgent tasks completed. I am now free to contemplate my bad ideas. And they are indeed bad ideas. Very bad ideas. The sort of ideas that leave you wondering what hell they spawned from.

Well, it's not my first time having bad ideas, I suppose.

* * *

I park my avatar staring at one of the view screens I have set up in the habitation module. Windows on a space ship are an iffy prospect to begin with. Windows on a module located near the dead center of a constantly growing ball of metal would be pointless. Hence, view screens.

Subspace pockets are absolutely broken, and among subspace pockets, Nanoha subspace pockets are the most broken of all. Your typical subspace pocket has one limitation. Either something's in the pocket, or it's out of the pocket. Nanoha subspace pockets don't work that way. It's entirely possible to put most of an object in subspace and leave only the business end outside, leaving it operable. This has _possibilities.  
_  
I started with a redesign for the Crusaders. Who needs variants when one model can do everything? The Incarnations and the Commandos got the same treatment. For the Horus, well, I always wanted a fighter that could pose a legitimate threat to an entire continent. Just generally, the subspace pockets let me diversify and upsize the armaments and capabilities of my units. Unfortunately my units were still glass cannons, as I had yet to get my hands on any sort of decent shielding tech for anything beyond infantry scale units. I've got a Think Tank working on adapting the forcefields used in the armor mages produce, barrier jackets they're usually called, for vehicle and building shielding, but it's a slow process.

Outside the _Ptah,_ the Psi Fabbers continue to work on expanding the Imhotep, pulling matter into existence and shaping it. Habitation areas for long-term care, yes, but after thinking back to my earlier conversation with Nanoha, I decided to add an education center. These people are going to get up to mad genetic science one way or another. Better that they know enough to do so relatively ethically. And yes, ethical mad science is a thing. I do it all the time.

"Phoenix?" Fate asks, jolting me from my reverie.

"Yes?" I ask. She and Nanoha look to have just come from the training area I set up for them. Subspace pockets let me cram an entire cityscape into a room about ten meters on a side. Check the recordings and... Yep, looks like Nanoha took the prize again. Under normal circumstances they're almost perfectly evenly matched, but Fate's still undergoing genetic therapy, and that's slowing her down a bit. I should suggest that they try sparring with Vita and Signum some time.

"How are you doing that?" Fate asks, looking at the view screen where one of my psi fabbers just materialized a chunk of metal to start shaping.

"Ah. That. Psychic powers," I say. "No, it's not magic. Magic is an exact science. This is... more freeform."

"Psychic powers?" Chrono asks. He was playing referee for the sparring match.

"Can we learn?" Nanoha asks.

"Yes, and... technically yes," I say. "Yes they're psychic powers, and, in theory, every human is capable of wielding them."

"Will you teach us?" Fate asks.

Well. Um. That's... an idea I suppose? I'm actually not sure if that's a bad idea or not. "Hmm. Not now," I say. "Fate, you need to finish your therapy before I try unlocking whatever psionic powers you might possess. Nanoha, I'd have to talk to your parents first, which we really need to do soon anyways." Also, I'm not unlocking _either_ of their powers until I have a properly reinforced and shielded chamber for the job. Psionics run off willpower. For these two, that is _not_ something they lack. I'm more concerned about them punching a hole in the hull than anything else.

"Hayate should join us!" Nanoha says. Oh god why? If Nanoha and Fate have unmatchable depths of determination, Hayate is the reigning god-empress of bloody-minded stubbornness. Right. Fine. Just... fine.

"Maybe once Reinforce and I finish fixing the whole corrupted tome thing, alright?" I say.

The Book of Darkness project is... well, we have a plan at least. Said plan is an ugly brute force solution, but it should work. Simply deleting the defense program isn't an option. It'll just come back. Stupid auto-repair function. Likewise, disabling the auto-repair function _will_ set off the defense program, so that's not an option. Our current plan is to add a new data storage drive to the Book, relocate the defense program to the new drive, then physically remove the new drive. This should delay the auto-repair long enough for us to deactivate it, while hopefully not setting off the defense program. We should even be able to salvage the tome itself, which is a major win.

Of course reality never goes that smoothly, but we can hope.

There is one complication though. The Wolkenritter are part of the defense program. Losing them is not an option, so right now Reinforce and I are working out how to separate them from the rest of the defense program without killing them. To that end, I've started designing physical bodies capable of housing them. We'll see if this works out in a few weeks.

I sincerely hope this works. Tampering with universe-ending things is not something to be done lightly.

* * *

As nice as the rest of their tech is, I think the single most valuable thing I got from the TSAB was their multiversal communication ability. I can now spread out across multiple universes. You may now panic. Anyways, I have a small force working through Jail's old base, pilfering data and technology. Jail's base of course being the legendary lost logia battleship, the Saint's Cradle. The ultimate weapon of Ancient Belka, the Saint's Cradle is several kilometers in length and chock full of interesting technology. Anti Magic Fields are just the start, as Jail was using it to store other lost logia, some of which are _very_ interesting indeed. I'm not sure whether I should thank Jail, or shoot him.

Both?

Both is good. Thank, then shoot. Alas, I already turned him over to the non-corrupt part of the TSAB. He won't be setting foot outside of a prison for the rest of his life. Oh, and I managed to track down Due as well. She was irritatingly hard to find, but she is now also in custody. That's all twelve numbers accounted for and one mad scientist. Not a bad haul, considering. And of course, Vivio.

The good part about her being unconscious, I can work as fast as possible to repair her. I'm pretty sure I've got everything right at this point. In fact she should be waking up... now.

* * *

The honey-blonde girl stirs slightly, shifting beneath the fuzzy blanket laid over her. She gives a sort of confused whimper, then slowly opens her eyes. One eye is bright red, the other bright green. It's rather striking.

"Easy there, Vivio," my avatar says, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. "You've been asleep for a long time. How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"

She looks up at me. I know she doesn't recognize me, but seeing as I don't want Jail anywhere near her, that's unavoidable. "No," she says, trying to curl up on herself.

"Good," I say, giving my best non-threatening smile. "My name's Phoenix. Can you get up for me?"

Vivio looks at me with the suspicion of a four year old around a stranger. "Yes." She carefully sits up, then climbs out of the low bed I had her lying in. Oh, she's adorable.

Good, she can walk. I didn't notice anything wrong with her in the medical scans, but it was always possible I missed something. "Thank you, Vivio."

"What's going to happen to me?" she asks.

"I'm not sure yet," I say. I was a bit busy saving her life to think that far ahead. "For now, you can stay here. You'll be safe here, I promise. Here, I have something for you." I pull out a small stuffed rabbit and hand it to her. Vivio takes it carefully, a look of confused wonder on her face. Oh she's too adorable, I just want to cuddle her forever.

"This is... mine?" Vivio asks.

"Yes," I say. "All yours. You can keep it."

Vivio stares at the bunny in her hands. "Mine..." she says in disbelief.

And that's when the tears start. Apply hugs? Apply hugs. I'll introduce her to everyone else later, I think.

* * *

"Mister and Mrs. Takamachi," I say, sipping my tea. I am currently sitting in the Takamachi house's dining room. Nanoha is sitting in the chair next to me, while her parents are across the table from me. Kyoya and Miyuki, her, well, technically they're her half brother and her cousin, but meaningfully they're her older brother and sister, are watching from the doorway, trying to look like they're not eavesdropping and failing. "I'm certain you recall the period about a month and a half ago where your daughter left home."

"Yes." Shiro, Nanoha's father says. "I assure you, Nanoha can take care of herself."

"Oh, I fully agree with that statement," I say. "However, I attest that you do not grasp just how true a statement it is. I am aware of your family's history as a clan of ninjas. Nanoha is not a ninja. Nanoha, if you would?"

Nanoha places Raising Heart on the table. "Mom, Dad, I'm a mage," she says. "This is my partner, Raising Heart."

"Hello," Raising Heart says.

 _That_ gets a few questions. Though not as many as you'd expect. Magical ninja families, am I right?

* * *

"You are proposing that my daughter drop out of school and leave home," Shiro says.

"In essence, yes," I say. "You know Nanoha is brilliant. I'm certain you've seen her report cards. The issue is that she's far smarter than your world can even measure. She can casually perform math inside her own head that would leave the most brilliant physicists on Earth weeping in frustration. If she stays here, her potential will be squandered. I can provide her with an education that will truly challenge her. She'll be working with peers her own age, allowing her to develop socially in ways she won't be able to here on Earth. While I'm quite certain you have Nanoha's best interests at heart, I can assure you, you are not equipped to help her reach her full potential."

"And you are." Shiro says.

"I am an artificial intelligence that is, at a minimum, somewhere in the neighborhood of a million years old," I say. "I can teach Nanoha advanced physics, biology, and chemistry. I suppose her knowledge of history might suffer a bit, at least when it comes to fine details of Earth history, but she will have a much broader selection of histories to study if she accompanies me. Beyond that, I can teach her most of the 'softer' sciences, or at least arrange for someone to teach her for me. Furthermore, I have and have access to people with the knowledge required to bring out the best of her magical abilities. There is nowhere on Earth that can say the same. To put it simply, I am offering an education superior to anything any university on Earth can offer."

"And what about her family?" Momoko asks.

"Barring unexpected communications failures, she would be able to call at any time," I say. "In fact, if you'd like, I can probably set up a sort of augmented reality situation, allowing for physical interaction as well. I would require some development time to create such a system, but it is possible."

"You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" Shiro asks.

"It seemed prudent," I say. "However, there is one more thing you should be aware of." I hold out my hand, palm up. Psionic energy sparks to life in the air above my hand. "This is _not_ magic. This is a separate phenomenon known as psionics. It does have a number of fascinating interactions with magic, but that's not important right now. What is important is that the potential to wield this power resides in every human mind. Nanoha has requested that I instruct her in its use. I told her my willingness to do so was contingent upon your approval."

"Is it dangerous?" Momoko asks.

"Any power is dangerous if not used properly," I say. "A pen is dangerous if used incorrectly. It's even more dangerous if used correctly, though not to the wielder. It is also useful. I can assure you that I am the only person within the nearest thousand universes who can teach the use of this power."

"Could Nanoha manifest this power without your help?" Shiro asks.

I consider for a moment. "Possibly. Had she never met me, I would have said no, but now that she knows it's possible, well, I would not be surprised if she managed to figure it out on her own. She is both brilliant and stubborn, a rather difficult combination to restrain." That gets an amused snort from Shiro and a faint smile from Momoko. "I realize that this makes your life somewhat more difficult, but this is who Nanoha is. She's too much for Earth. If she doesn't leave now, she will leave later. She's not the sort to let her abilities lie unused, and that means leaving home."

There's a moment of silence.

"And what do you want, Nanoha?" Momoko asks.

"I want to go, mama," Nanoha says. "I want to go with Phoenix-san, and Fate-chan."

I smile faintly. "Fair warning," I say. "In about ten years you'll almost certainly have a daughter-in-law." Oh wow, Nanoha, I'm not certain that color's healthy for you. That's my hair color, not a color your face should be.

"I think I'd like to meet this girl," Momoko says. Nanoha. Nanoha. You're making fire trucks jealous. Nanoha. Nanoha, stahp.

"Please don't tell Fate-chan," Nanoha says quietly.

"Certainly," I say with a grin. To be fair, I'm pretty sure the two of them are the only ones who haven't noticed already. Besides, I'm going to be teaching them psionics. I won't have to say a thing. "Unfortunately Fate can't leave my ship right now. Her situation is... complicated, to say the least, but I can bring you to her. I'm sure she'll be happy to meet Nanoha's family."

"And we get to visit space," Shiro says. "I think that's acceptable." 

* * *

The teleportation goes perfectly smoothly. Nanoha rushes ahead to warn Fate that we're coming. Shiro turns to me as we follow at a far more sedate pace. "Tell me, what is your honest opinion of this Fate girl?"

I pause, thinking for a moment before I speak. "As she is now, she is a very broken girl. She needs Nanoha as a drowning woman needs air. As she will be once she recovers? Fate is loyalty. That is the defining trait of her character. This is her triumph. It is also her tragedy. Nanoha currently holds her ultimate loyalty, and with good reason. She will not hurt Nanoha, and will quite willingly sacrifice herself to protect your daughter."

"What happened to her?" Momoko asks, concerned.

"Many things, most of which I am not at liberty to tell," I say. "Suffice it to say that her mother, her biological mother, was a terrible human being who did not deserve the tiniest fraction of the love and loyalty Fate showed her, and Fate suffered thereby. Please, when you speak with her, do not bring up her mother. It will help no one and it will do great harm to Fate. So please, if you have compassion, do not ask of her."

"Surely she can't have been that bad?" Momoko asks nervously.

"No," I say. "She was worse. She is very lucky she is not still among the living, for if she were I would be currently planning the most agonizing means of killing her that I could. I do not tolerate the abuse of children."

Momoko shudders slightly, while Shiro looks at me with... respect, I think. Perhaps not in the traditional sense, but in an acknowledgement of principles, firmly held and written in blood and flame. Given what he did before retiring to be a baker, that's worth quite a bit.

"Phoenix!" Vivio blurts as she dashes out of one of the side rooms, tackling my leg.

"Hello, Vivio," I say, bending down to ruffle her hair. "Are you behaving yourself?" She nods vigorously. "And is Lindy going to agree with you if I ask her?" She nods again, though a little more hesitantly."We'll have to see about that. If you're right, you can have a cookie, alright?"

"Okay!" She dashes off again. It's good to see her on her feet and a smile on her face.

"Is she yours?" Momoko asks.

"Huh? Oh, no, it's... complicated," I say. "I'm just taking care of her for the moment."

We keep walking, heading towards the medical bay. We nearly collide with Hayate chatting with Yuuno as Signum hovers in the background. This level of the habitation module is actually getting somewhat busy. All told there are nearly twenty people living here at this point.

"You seem to have a habit of rescuing young girls," Shiro comments after Hayate passes.

"I suppose I do," I say. "What's the saying? Twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern? If you count Lucy, it's up to four, though she's not exactly a girl, and I didn't do what I did to save her."

"I see," Shiro says. I do believe I'm coming to like this man.

We come to a stop outside the room Fate has been staying in. "Well, this is our stop. I'll be waiting for you by the teleporter pad when you're done."

* * *

"Are you really okay with this?" Lindy asks.

"I am _resigned_ to it," I say. "Those are not quite the same thing."

Today is the day I unlock Nanoha's psionic powers. Not being an idiot, I will also be doing Fate and Hayate today. Right now the three of them are lying on biers in the training area, waiting for the procedure to start. Lindy, Chrono, Lucy, a few of the TSAB scrubs, and I are all watching from a view screen. "I promised Nanoha that if her parents agreed, I would teach her," I say. "Furthermore, I told the others they could do it as a group. If I delay any further, they will start _experimenting_. Given their combined intelligence and force of will, I doubt it would take them long to succeed. I do _not_ want them playing with psionic power unsupervised."

"How bad could it be?" one of the TSAB scrubs asks. I think his name is Merkot or something like that.

"Psionics are powered by force of will," I say. "I think we can all agree that Fate has that in excess. Hayate, despite appearances, is in mortal agony. ALL. THE. TIME. Until I told you that, I was the only one on this ship who knew. Even the Wolkenritter don't know. And Nanoha has somehow combined workaholic tendencies, monomaniacal tendencies, and heroic tendencies into something that I am going to do my best to nip in the bud lest she severely hurt herself some day. Left unsupervised, should these three develop psionics, I would be concerned for the _ship_. _You_ would be written off as unavoidable losses. This is why I am doing this _now_."

"Oh," the scrub says.

"Yes. Oh." I roll my eyes. "Alright, let's get to this. Girls, can you hear me?"

"Yep!" Nanoha says.

"Yes," Fate says.

"Nope!" Hayate says with a grin.

I roll my eyes again. "This will be unpleasant. You have been warned. A few preparatory notes. Nanoha. Turn off the image training, or I will make Raising Heart do it for you."

"Eep!" Nanoha squeaks.

"Alright, with that out of the way, a brief overview of what to expect," I say. "Awakening psionics in humans is not a pleasant process. Over the next twelve hours I will be subjecting your minds to extremes, both positive and negative. Fortunately for you, I can recognize surges of psionic power and adjust accordingly, so this will only take twelve hours or so, not twelve days. I fully expect you to be exhausted afterwords. Once your abilities have awoken, and you've had a chance to confirm they work, you will eat, and then go to bed. You will not experiment with your new abilities until tomorrow. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Fate says. The other two nod.

"Good. Then let us begin."

* * *

"This is surprisingly boring," Lucy says, glancing over at the view screen where the three initiates are lying motionless.

"I said it would be," I reply. "All of the interesting stuff is going on in their heads."

"I guess I was just expecting something more... physical," Lucy says.

"That's the low tech version. Drugs and physical stimuli. I have psionic powers and a very fine degree of control over same. This is better." I shake my head. "This way they won't end up with white hair. I'm sorry this isn't thrilling you." It's not even all that interesting for me, actually. I'm managing it with a tiny fraction of my mental capacity. Which unfortunately leaves me with entirely too much time to contemplate my bad ideas. I know they're bad ideas. I should forget about them. But I can't. They're like a bug bite in my brain. I know I should leave it alone, but I can't help scratching at it.

Okay, _fine_. Might as well at least do prep work for it. Even if I ultimately decide that this is a sufficiently bad plan that I don't go through with it, at least I'll be ready for similar needs in the future.

This is still a terrible idea. 

* * *

"What are you planning to do with Vivio?" Lindy asks as Nanoha and Fate stagger out of the training room. They both look like they've been put through the wringer, which is entirely accurate. They're also both grinning like loons, and there are faint sparks of purple dancing in their eyes. Hayate rolls out in her chair, looking entirely unruffled. Given the amount of pain she's in every day, I suppose this barely registers. In related news, Reinforce and I are making progress on teasing the code for the Wolkenritter out of the defense program. Of course removing them entirely would set off both the defense program _and_ the auto-repair, so timing is going to be of exquisite importance come D-day.

"I don't know," I say.

"You could leave her at an orphanage on Mid-Childa," Lindy says. "I can help you find-"

"Absolutely not," I say. "Completely out of the question."

Lindy frowns at me. "Why?"

"You've seen her eyes."

Lindy blinks. "Really? The Sägebrecht family died out with Olivie, the Sankt Kaiser herself. She's a Sägebrecht?"

"Yes and no," I say. "It's worse than that. I found her in Jail's base. Jail was one of the leads of Project Fate."

"She's a clone," Lindy says. "A clone of wh- No. Even Jail wouldn't-"

"He did," I say. "That little girl is the clone of Olivie Sägebrecht. A significant chunk of your civilization would view her as a quite literal second coming. Everyone else would be falling over themselves to get control of her. I refuse to throw her into that snake pit."

"I... I see," Lindy says. "So what are you going to do instead?"

"I have no idea," I say. "Right now my best idea is to ask the Takamachis to take her in. After all, they did a good job with Nanoha. But I'm still not happy with that plan. I considered asking you, but you're already dealing with adopting Fate, and are under a fair bit of scrutiny as a result. Keeping Vivio's existence quiet is the goal here, and not one that would be achieved by you adopting her at this point."

"True," Lindy says. "Do you know what happened yesterday?"

"Unless someone was injured or their vital signs otherwise exhibited unusual behavior, no. I try to keep my monitoring of the habitation module to a minimum."

"Vivio was talking with Nanoha," Lindy says. "She wanted to know about the people Nanoha brought up to talk to Fate. She was very interested in Kyoya and Miyuki in particular, and their relationship with Nanoha."

Oh, I can see where this is going. "She asked if Nanoha could be her big sister, didn't she?"

"Nanoha, Fate, and Hayate," Lindy confirms.

"That's absolutely adorable," I say.

"She needs a parent," Lindy says.

"I know," I say. "I'll think of something."

"Try not to think so hard that you miss the obvious."


End file.
